


Ascent II

by Lydia_Gastrell



Series: Star Trek: TNG - Ascent [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Earth, Exes to Lovers, F/M, Murder, Post-Canon, Post-Nemesis, back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 10:32:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 54
Words: 197,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13339395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lydia_Gastrell/pseuds/Lydia_Gastrell
Summary: Following the events of Ascent I, Lore finds himself wandering the outskirts of Federation space without purpose, until a mysterious message from Deanna Troi prompts him to return to the Enterprise. Life aboard the Enterprise is no longer the same, but old enemies haven't changed at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is complete, but it is LONG. Might take me a few days to get all the chapter up. =)

 

**_“How do you know I’m human?”_**  

 

**July, 2379. The Beta Quadrant.**

     A young woman stepped out into the dark, narrow corridor and quickly pulled a frayed woolen hood over her head. She took equal care to hold the billowing fronts of the cloak together, thus obscuring any visible line of her physical form. She looked both ways, noted that the corridor was empty, and proceeded on quick feet.

     As many times as she had made this short journey, she never took it without noting, with dismay and disgust, her miserable surroundings. The corridors were narrow and dim, the walls a haphazard mix of black and rust colored metal. The floors were grated, and produced a mind-numbing rattle and clank with each foot fall. When the station was busy, which was often, it was nearly impossible to hear oneself think. Not that her previous surrounds—which felt so remote now—had been much better, but at least there had been blue skies and fresh air. Escaping the abysmal lodgings had been no more difficult than taking a quick stroll through the woods, but there was no escape here. The remote space station known technically as Syndicate Trading Outpost 26, and colloquially as _Gesteia Nor,_ was about as remote and inescapable as one could get.

     Not that it was a prison. At least, not in the official sense.

     The young woman made several sharp turns through the labyrinth of narrow corridors, passing every manner of person as she went. She bowed her head and hugged her cloak as she passed them, even altering her step at times to make herself seem old or lumbering, maybe even male. That worked sometimes, fooling people into thinking she was some lanky man huddled in a cloak. It didn’t always work, though, and that was why she moved quickly. She could see slightly brighter lights up ahead, and heaved a sigh of relief when she finally reached the crush and bustle of the main promenade, though it wasn’t much safer there than it was in the residential corridors.

     The station manager loved referring to the main commerce area as the _promenade,_ as if that somehow made it more than just a spider web of slightly wider hallways edged with screaming merchants and brawling traders. People from every corner of the galaxy, or so it seemed, pushed through tight crowds to buy or sell something. There was nothing that wasn’t for sale on _Gesteia Nor_. Even the most sacred of things had a price tag….

     The young woman pressed her back to the wall as a group of very loud and barrel-chested Orion men came pressing by. She held her arms out, lifting her thin cloak further away from her body, and thus further obscuring her shape. One of the men glanced at her, sniffed with derision, and kept walking.

     _Yep, that’s it. Nothing to see here, Jerk!_

     She waited for them to pass a long way off, and then continued her spidery path through the crowd. She made a turn, hugging the corner, and took another quick breath. Up ahead, a wash of muted red light washed across the promenade, coming from one of the open shops on the right side of the row. The word ‘shop’ was too good for the place, in her humble opinion, for what they sold did not belong in a shop. She hugged her cloak and quickened her pace now, almost to a run. She could have taken another route, one which allowed her to reach her destination without passing the reprehensible ‘shop’, but it required a long journey through the dark corridors of the sub-levels, where one was nearly guaranteed to be mugged or worse. It would be over quickly. She told herself that every day.

     “Why, who’s that there!” Called a high-pitched female voice.

     The young woman did not turn. She knew the voice and the harpy who produced it, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She darted too quickly and came up behind a man who wasn’t moving fast enough. In the time it took her to get around him, the high-pitched woman had reached her path.

     “Where you going there, girlie?” The harpy sneered as she roughly grabbed the edge of the young woman’s hood and yanked it back.

     “Get away from me!” She cried, trying to get her hood back up, but it was too late. A delicately featured young woman with large almond eyes and shining mahogany hair had been revealed. Her skin was white and flawless, like the surface of a polished piece of ivory, with the only interruption being the thin horizontal ridges of a Bajoran nose. She yanked her cloak back over her head and tried to push by.

     “In such a hurry to get to that job of yours, Teni?” The harpy cackled, and put her hand on her bare hip, for the woman wore next to nothing. Her long skirt was a joke to modesty, as from the hips up she wore nothing but a scanty bustier and a wide latinum necklace. The necklace could have paid Teni’s station rent for a year.

     Teni shuddered at hearing her name on the woman’s lips. She hated the fact that she knew her name at all, but secrets were impossible to keep on _Gesteia Nor._

     “Leave me alone.” Teni muttered. “I have to get to work.”

     “Work?” The woman laughed, and a collection of other, equally naked woman who had gathered at the entrance to the shop laughed as well. “Is that what you call it? My dear, you make in a week what I make in a few hours. Maybe you need a change of profession.”

     _Profession?_ Teni felt her stomach flip over. She could just imagine what things that woman had done to earn so much money _in a few hours._ Actually, she couldn’t really imagine. Teni’s mind was too clean for that.

     “No, _thank you._ ” Teni said, stepping back from her. “I would rather earn money honestly.”

     The harpy’s expression, so arrogant and self-amused, fell into a deep scowl. “Honest? Who are you fooling, girlie? My business _is_ the only honest business on this station, and don’t you forget it. You think you’re better than me because you serve drinks at a bar, but everyone knows that men go to that bar to look at your ass. What little thing does your boss have you wearing today? Let’s see.”

    Teni leapt back as the woman tried to grab the front of her cloak and open it. “Stop it!”

     The harpy laughed and swung her long blond hair over her shoulder. Her Farian features only helped to increase the nasty expression on her face. “You’ll come around eventually, Teni. It’s only a matter of time. I heard that the rents are going to be increased soon, and I know you can barely afford to live now on what you make. We’ll see how moral you are when you’re facing eviction and the _airlock._ ”

     Teni scrambled around the group of people who had gathered nearby, watching the little public display as if it were an interesting piece of art. Some of the bystanders were men who had just recently stepped outside the _shop_. She couldn’t look them in the face. She ran through the crowd until she reached another turn and saw the entrance to Storlot’s Bar up ahead. She rushed inside, and hugged the wall until she entered the kitchen and collapsed into a chair.

     She could feel her face burning with rage, and the pressure at the backs of her eyes threatened tears. She hated that woman. Hated, hated, hated her! As if it weren’t bad enough that she did what she did to make money, she had to encourage and badger others into doing it too? Teni knew that some of the girls who worked in that _shop_ had once had jobs like hers, serving drinks or working as shop clerks. She was sure they each had their own personal stories and reasons for finally choosing that way, but for her nothing would ever be bad enough. She would never, _could_ never do that.

     If station security threw her out of the airlock, than station security threw her out of the airlock!

     Teni stood and removed her cloak, hanging it on the hook behind the swinging door. She looked down and smoothed her copper colored skirt as best she could, trying to somehow make it longer than it was. She also pulled her black top down, hoping to make the hem meet her skirt top, but it was futile. If she pulled it down to cover her stomach, the low neckline exposed too much of her chest. She decided the better part of valor was to cover her chest, and allowed the damnable top to ride up.

     She had to remind herself that she was lucky her boss had given her these clothes, even if his purpose was not very good. She couldn’t afford clothes of her own, and other than the cloak and a single traditional Bajoran dress she owned, all of her clothing had come from her boss.

     _It’s better than being naked,_ she thought ruefully.

     She took an apron from a nearby cubby hole and pulled it over her head, smiling at the fact that it hid the front of her exposed belly. She knew she wasn’t supposed to wear it, but her boss wasn’t supposed to be in today, so it was worth the risk. She screwed up her courage, grabbed a tray from the rack, and pressed through the kitchen door into Storlot’s Bar.

     Storlot’s was the most popular bar on the station, owed mostly to the fact that it had the most impressive view that could be had for free. The bar was long and cut up with several different half levels here and there, separated with railings and small sets of steps. Teni hated the strange, uneven layout, mostly because she had to walk over them, back and forth with a tray full of drinks. Her boss, however, thought it was a good idea, saying something about security and the inability of anyone to “get too far too fast.” She rolled her eyes and looked over the bar. The regulars were there, most of them, but she was looking for one in particular.

     “Ah, Teni! A Romulan ale, Love!” Cried a short, round Ferengi in a loud purple suit. Teni nodded and headed off to the replicator, searching the room with her eyes. It was too crowded, and she couldn’t see the back of the room from her current position.

     _I’m sure he’s here. He’s always here._

     “There you are, thank the Prophets.” Muttered a woman who came up to Teni’s side. “I’ve been run ragged; I think my feet are going to fall off. The evening crowd is yours, as always.”

     “Thanks, Min.” Teni said with a half-smile. Min was even younger than Teni, probably no older than nineteen or twenty, and had been working at Storlot’s almost as long as her. Like her, Min was a Bajoran refugee trying to get home, and _Gesteia Nor_ had just gotten in the way.

     “It’s the first of the week. You know what that means.” Min said with a somewhat bitter smile.

     “Yep.” Teni nodded. The first day of the week the wait staff got to keep their tips directly, rather than having them pooled and split with all the wait staff, as was the usual custom. Teni knew that Min had a bitter-sweet relationship with the system, because Teni’s tips were always so much more generous than hers. It meant that on the one hand, Min received a larger amount of money because Teni’s tips always increased the pot, but on the other it meant that the first day of the week always left her practically broke.

    Min looked down and frowned at her own long traditional dress. Their boss didn’t bother giving her clothes or asking her to wear revealing things because, quite frankly, Min was fat. She had the short, round shape of a child, and the extra fat in her cheeks made her look even younger.

     Teni noticed Min’s frowning self-appraisal, and nudged her with her elbow. “You know, I don’t really like the first of the week system. We all work hard, we all clean up after each other. What do you say you and me pool and split tips tonight?”

     Min looked up, “Um…are you sure?”

     “Of course.” Teni smiled and shrugged as if it were nothing, rather than the very thin line between life and abject poverty. “We always end up crossing tables anyway. It’s just fair this way.”

     “Okay!” Min smiled wide, her pudgy cheeks pressing her eyes up into their own little smile. Teni knew that Min’s situation was even worse than her own, since what little they made was supplemented with tips and Teni’s tips were always so much larger. She hated the fact, because she knew exactly why her tips were larger, and it had nothing to do with her ability to get drinks or serve food. The only reason Min was making it was because she lived with her sister, and they were able to split the rent on their quarters.

     “Oh, by the way,” Min said with a grin, “your _human_ is here.”

     Teni frowned and looked over Min’s shoulder. “He isn’t _my_ human.”

     “Come on.” Min rolled her bright blue eyes, “You always wait on him, even when it isn’t your section. And I’ve seen you try to talk to him. You never talk to any of the customers.”

     “That’s because the other customers don’t want to _talk_ to me.” Teni muttered ruefully. Even now she could feel a room full of male eyes going up and down her bare legs.

     “Yeah.” Min said sympathetically. She may have resented the tip situation to some degree, but she did not envy the attention Teni received. Being beautiful could be brutal. “Anyway, we’d better get to it. A few Farian traders are in, and the place is going to be packed.”

     Teni nodded and tucked her hair behind her ears. She had meant to ask Min if she had heard any rumors about the rents going up, but Min was already clear across the bar waiting on a table full of Ferengi. A lead weight seemed to sink in her gut. She already spent practically every slip of latinum she made on rent. What little was left over was for food, and she was always a little hungry. If the rents went up even a little bit….

     _Prophets, guide me._

     She took a glass of Romulan ale to the fat Ferengi and turned to approach the next table when she saw him. The _human_ , as virtually everyone referred to him, paused just a moment at the door and took a quick survey of the room. He then proceeded to move through the crowd and head directly toward the single tables near the back. Teni watched him with unwavering eyes, despite the insistent customer now tapping her arm. She always watched him with fascination when he came into the bar.

     “Hey, waitress!” The man bellowed, “Cider! Are you deaf?”

     “What? Oh! So, sorry. Yes, right away.” Teni nodded and headed back toward the replicator, her eyes firmly fixed on the human’s back as he made his way through the room.

     He was attractive, that much she was sure of, despite the fact that his features did not follow the stereotypical line of male beauty. His nose was perhaps a bit too large for his face, and he was average height, but it was not his looks that absorbed Teni’s attention. It was the way he walked. _Gesteia Nor_ was a nasty, dangerous place, and virtually everyone had enemies to think of. Even the most imposing men walked the corridors with their heads on a swivel, leaning around curves to make sure their paths were clear, but the _human_ did none of those things. He walked with eyes straight ahead, purposeful, as if what was happened around him was of absolutely no concern to him. Sometimes, he even walked with his attention focused on a data-pad in his hands, apparently oblivious to the world.

     It was the result of either enormous confidence or enormous stupidity. The fact that he was still alive and apparently un-assaulted led Teni to believe it was the former.

     She returned to the table, pressed the cider into the scowling customer’s face, and swung toward the back of the bar, her pulse racing a little.

     _Get a grip, Teni. He’s just another customer._

“Hello, again.” She said with a too-broad smile. She held her empty tray in front of herself, and lowered it a bit to try to cover the tops of her knees. She always did something like this when speaking to him, even though she herself did not notice it. It was when speaking to him that she hated her revealing clothes the most. She looked….She hated to think of how she looked.

     The human lifted his eyes in a smooth motion, having expected her, and focused them directly on her face. “Hello.”

     Teni practically squirmed with delight. She loved how he looked directly at her face—only at her face—whenever they spoke. She also loved his voice; such a mellow baritone. She cleared her throat, “The usual, then?”

     He nodded in a near imperceptible way, lowering his eyes and face in a single affirmative. He had a large, thin data-pad in his hands, and his eyes slid back to it as if engrossed. Teni shifted her weight and wished, for perhaps the hundredth time, that he did not have a usual order. Ordering something different would make him talk, and she would be able to explain the menu, and perhaps then they might actually have a conversation….

     _Wake up, Teni! He doesn’t want to talk to you._

     “Have you heard that the station rents might be going up?” She said suddenly. The words burst from her like a spasm, and she felt ridiculous as soon as she spoke them.

     The human lifted his eyes from the pad and shrugged, “I don’t reside aboard the station. I have a vessel docked.”

     Of course Teni knew that. Everyone knew that. The human’s vessel was the object of much covetous conversation and rumor, since its design and apparent accoutrements were quite remarkable.

     Teni nodded and looked back at the replicator. She knew she shouldn’t be bothering him, but he almost never spoke and she refused to let a good avenue go to waste. “Yes, but if the rents are going up, the docking fees probably will too. They usually increase everything when they increase anything.”

     He shrugged again, “I’m sure the increase won’t be enough to make any different to me.”

     She almost balked. _It must be nice to have that much money._ She lowered her tray, dejected, “I’ll get your order.” She returned less than a minute later with a cup of hot coffee and a blueberry muffin, a wonderfully sweet smelling thing that Teni had never heard of before the first time he ordered it. He always ordered the same thing; coffee and a blueberry muffin. He always finished both completely and ordered nothing else. She set the items down and smiled, warmly and openly, hoping to lure him into further conversation.

     He looked up as he took the coffee from her and, seeing her smile, appeared to soften a bit. The corners of his mouth moved up just slightly.

     Teni’s heart bounced in her chest.

     “You know,” She ventured, feeling brave suddenly, “You’ve been coming in here almost every day for weeks and I don’t know your name.”

     “Do you know all the patrons’ names?” He asked. His voice was low, but somewhat amused.

     “Yes, actually.” She beamed, “I wouldn’t want to refer to you the way everyone else does. It seems rude.”

     He raised a brow at this and almost smiled, “How does everyone refer to me?”

     She shrugged, “The _human._ ”

     A ghost of smile flitted across his face, “How do they know I’m human?”

     “Um…well, you’re obviously human.” Teni stuttered.

     “Am I?” He said, that secretly amused look still on his face, “I could be El’ Aurien. They are physically identical to humans. I could also be…a Betazoid.”

     Teni’s brow knit together in confusion until her active imagination spiraled out of control. Was he a Betazoid? Was that why he walked around so confidently, because he could read everyone’s thoughts? Her face fell into an expression of horror. The thoughts she had had about him…. _Oh, no!_

     The human chuckled lightly and put his hands up in a calming motion, “Relax. I am _not_ a Betazoid.”

     “Oh? Oh!” Teni laughed nervously but was in fact enormously relieved. “You shouldn’t do that. Betazoids aren’t popular around here.”

     “I would assume not.” He agreed. He lifted his coffee toward his lips and looked at her as if waiting for something else. Teni opened her mouth to say more, but was suddenly interrupted by a scratchy tenor from behind.

     “Are you going to take our order or not!”

     Teni practically jumped and spun around as she headed back into the fray and away from the human. It wasn’t until she had attended to several more tables that she realized how cleverly he had managed to not tell her his name.

 

 ***

 

     The evening moved with shocking speed, and by the time Teni finally had a spare moment to check the clock she saw that it was only twenty minutes till closing. Luckily, Min had already begun the process of shooing people out and refusing to fill further orders. It was the same thing every night. The men didn’t want to leave, and the stragglers would sometimes cause a scene before either Teni or Min was forced to threaten a call to security. Of course, they would never actually call security. The station guards were notorious for demanding bribes for carrying out even their most basic duties, and neither Teni nor Min could spare the money.

     “Not one more ale, Teni?” Said a tall Boslic man with long red hair and sharp, alien features. He was standing as his comrades were heading toward the exit, boisterous laughter marking their path.

     “I’m afraid not, Mr. Mull.” Teni said, eyes downcast. She put her tray on the table to scoop up the rest of the empty glasses.

     “That’s all right. Maybe you would consider joining me for drinks elsewhere.” He said, his harsh features producing a leering grin.

     Teni shivered and kept his eyes away. The words sounded innocent enough, but his tone more than indicated that he was not fishing for an platonic get-together.

     “We have lots of work to do after we close.” Teni said quickly. She turned her back to him and leaned over the table to reach the remainder of the glasses, when she felt a cold rough hand slide up the back of her thigh.

     “Hey!” She cried, spinning around. As she did, a few glasses fell to the floor and shattered.

     “Relax, little girl.” Mull smirked, “I’m a fair businessman. I’ll offer you a competitive price.”

     Teni’s eyes grew wide with fury. Before she could stop herself, she stretched her arm back and slapped him solidly across the face. It made a loud, satisfying smack, but the satisfaction died when the man’s eyes glistened with amusement. Her hardest slap had hit him like a brush of wind.

     “Whoa! One with spirit!” He cackled, “Don’t be so self-processed, my dear. If the merchandise isn’t for sale, why are you clearly displaying it?”

     _Merchandise._ Teni felt a renewed urge to strike him, but what was the point? She looked down at her short copper skirt and exposed belly and just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear.

    Mull took another step toward her, his posture imposing, “Don’t continue being self-righteous, Teni. You should play to your strengths. A beautiful thing like you would do _much_ better in a different line of work.”

     “Get out.”

     Teni swallowed hard, and for a moment wondered if he had spoken the words or if she had imagined them. It was then that she saw Mull’s eyes dart to something behind her, and narrow to ominous slits. Teni turned. There stood the human only a few feet behind her, his light blue eyes locked on the other man.

     “Mind your own business, _human_.” Mull spat. “If you know what’s good for you.”

     The human took a single step closer; his expression was so blank and hard that it nearly ran Teni’s blood cold. He held his hands behind his back in a most inappropriate show of ease. “Get. Out.”

     Mull shifted his weight as if to strike, but something stopped him. He continued to meet the human’s eyes and there was something in their unflinching—un _blinking—_ coldness that stopped him dead. This human was either insane or had something impressive up his sleeve. Mull snarled and spun away toward his comrades, who had not even noticed the altercation. The human remained perfectly still and watched as the entire group disappeared into the promenade.

     Teni leaned forward and released the breath she had been painfully holding. She wiped at her teary eyes and turned her face away, humiliated. He had heard everything. The human had heard every disgusting, mocking word.

     “Um…thank you.” She muttered, “I was worried I was going to have to call security.” She looked down at her feet and surveyed the minefield of crushed glass. Three glasses. Her boss would make her pay for them, and her tips for the night would barely cover food and a round at the sonic shower. She felt renewed tears building behind her eyes.

     “You are not merchandise.”

     Teni looked up to find the human staring down at her. His expression was a mix of stern focus and…concern?

     She shook her head vigorously, “That…that’s nothing. I’m used to it.”

     He seemed to consider this. He took a step back and reached his hand into the pocket of his jacket. Teni heard the distinct clink of latinum slips.

     “You neglected to take payment for my order earlier.” He extended his closed fist and waited for Teni to extend her hand. When she did, he pressed the cold slips into her palm and said, “This is the amount I want you to take. It _is_ correct.”

      Teni nodded dumbly, too embarrassed and worried to question his strange comment. Without another word or look, he stepped back and headed briskly toward the exit, his eyes already buried once more in the contents of his data-pad.

    It was all over so quickly, Teni wondered if she had imagined it.

     “Oh! Oh! Are you ok?” Min said as she stopped just shy of the area of broken glass. “I saw that man touch you!”

     “It’s fine. Forget it.”

     “Forget it?” Min spat. “I…It’s wrong that you have to wear those clothes. No! I’m going to say it! He makes you wear those clothes to draw attention, but it’s just wrong! I’m going to talk to my sister and see if we can’t take in one of my dresses. You could have it, Teni.”

     Teni buried her face in her hands and sobbed, “Oh, Min! It won’t make any difference. I could wear a suit of armor and it wouldn’t change anything!”

     Min nodded and looked at the glass on the floor, “Oh, no. How many?”

     “Three.” Teni sobbed, “Three of the good ones, too. The blue marbled ones.”

     “If we’re sharing tips tonight, we should also share expenses. It’s only right.” Min muttered. She paused for a moment before she headed off to the kitchen to continue their cleanup work.

     Teni sobbed louder, feeling it even more now that the place was dim and empty. She pulled her closed fist away from her face and started walking toward the safe to deposit the money she had so stupidly neglected to collect from the human earlier. As she opened her palm and looked down, she was shocked to see not two slips of latinum, but three _strips._ She had been too worked up to notice the obvious difference in size.

     _It must be a mistake._ She darted her eyes toward the bolted doors and dim promenade beyond. The human had given her nearly a week’s wages. Surely he had been distracted by the confrontation with the Boslic, and had not meant to hand her so much money. Had he?

     Teni’s eyes ran down to the broken bits of glass all around her feet. The money would easily cover the glasses too, leaving a substantial amount behind. Her heart began to pound loudly as she gazed at the shiny strips in her hand. She couldn’t, she _mustn’t_ spend any of it if it was a mistake. He would realize what he had done, and he would be back tomorrow to demand the appropriate balance owed him.

     " _This is the amount I want you to take. It_ is _correct."_

     Teni’s smile widened to the point of looking silly as she gripped the strips and pressed them to her chest. Life had taught Teni to be jaded, suspicious, and yet she was willing to take a blind leap of faith and accept a gift.

     A gift from the stranger with no name.

 

     

    

    


	2. Chapter 2

 

**_“What?”_ **

 

     Teni floated out of her quarters and wrapped her cloak around herself, the frayed hood covered a satisfied smile. She could not remember the last time she had slept so well. Her stomach was full, her body was clean, and she was comfortably draped in a newly replicated dress that extended well past her knees. She had even gone a step further and indulged in a pair of opaque black stockings. She could not remember the last time she had felt so good.

     She patted the heavy little purse tucked deep in her pocket and grinned.

     It may have been foolish to splurge the precious money on the dress and stockings, and certainly on the extra-long use of the sonic shower, but she had been unable to resist. She never had more than a few slips of latinum to her name at any given time, and so was always being forced to choose between food and hygiene. More often than not she chose hygiene, for she could not bear to have others look on her in disgust, and hunger was easier to hide. But last night she had finally been able to have both, and even now her stomach was still slightly uncomfortable from the embarrassing amount of bread and Bajoran cheese she had consumed. And the cost had put hardly a dent in her newfound fortune. There was plenty of latinum to spare!

     _Don’t waste it on creature comforts, Teni. You need to save it._

Allowing herself to become too excited was dangerous, she knew, for although it was a fine amount of money, it would not last forever. In fact, if the rents went up, she might manage to spread it out over a few months to make up the difference. But, what would she do after that? She still couldn’t leave. The cost of a transport to Bajor amounted to nearly a month’s wages, and even with this extra help she was still far away from what she would need.

     _Stop it!_ Teni shook the thoughts aside and refused to be anything but happy today. Just one day of being happy and pretending that she had no problems; was that so terrible? She moved swiftly through the promenade on her way to Storlot’s, thinking pleasantly of how she would thank the human for his generosity. Maybe now she would finally learn his name and a little bit of his story. He was very quiet and even standoffish, but no one who would just give away so much money could be unkind. He was probably just suspicious. Everyone on the station was suspicious.

     _What is a lone human doing all the way out here?_

     She giggled at the very thought of seeing him again.

     It was quite early, and there were as yet few customers in the bar. Min was already there, since it was her day to open, and Teni joined her behind the replicator station where she was stacking plates.

     “Good morning, Min.” Teni said with a broad smile.

     Min looked up. Her face was drawn and a little pale. “You’re in a very good mood today. Did the brothel blow up?”

     Teni giggled at that possibility, but shook her head, “Not today, sadly, but I did have a comfortable evening. How has it been this morning?”

     “Good, good.” Min nodded. “I think we—whoa! Where did you get that?”

     Teni had removed her cloak, thus revealing her new clothes. She wore a purple, long sleeve dress with a moderate round neckline and full skirt. The hem stopped a few inches past her knees, where he legs were bound in smooth black stockings. The dress still hugged her beautiful form, but was miles away from the hideous immodesty of her normal clothes.

     Teni blushed, “I replicated this last night. Do you like it?”

     “Well, yeah, but….” Min frowned, “Where did you get the money?”

     Teni blushed suddenly. She had been so thrilled with her sudden riches that she had not even mentioned them to Min. She had paid for the broken glasses, insisting that Min not share in that, but she still felt bad. Even now, the sudden prospect of sharing left her feeling a bit ill.

     “Well…one of the customers gave me some money. The human, actually.”

     “Oh. You mean, like a tip?” Min murmured. She frowned involuntarily, for Teni and her had agreed to split their tips the night before.

     “No, not exactly.” Teni found herself shifting her weight uncomfortably. She began to feel really bad, and cursed herself for being so selfish. Min was in the same situation as her. She really should share….

     “It was more like a…gift. But, we should share it! If it came from a customer, it’s just the same as a tip. I guess.”

     She fished into her dress pocket and removed the precious heavy purse, resenting the idea that half of it was about to disappear. She poured the purse out into her palm. A clatter of strips and slips, the change from her nights purchases, piled into her hand.

     Min’s eyes widened, “A customer _gave_ you this much money?”

     Teni nodded, “The human. He said something earlier about not caring if the docking fees go up, so he must have lots of money. It’s probably nothing to him.”

     “I can’t imagine that much money being nothing to anyone.” Min said. She eyed the money for a few seconds then looked up at Teni with a stern expression, “You should give it back.”

     “What? Why?” Teni closed her fist around the latinum and pulled it against her stomach.

     “Teni, no one just gives money away around here. Think about it.”

     “But he did just ‘give it away’. He told me he wanted me to have it.”

     Min shook her head, “He’ll probably be expecting a thank you today when he comes in.”

     Teni shrugged, “So? I’m not above saying thank you for something. It’s the least I could do.”

     Min lowered her head and shook it sadly, “That’s fine, but then he’ll probably be expecting you to thank him again. Later. Maybe aboard his ship.”

     Teni stared at Min for a few seconds until her meaning finally sank in, “No. That is _not_ what is going on here. He isn’t like that.”

     “How do you know? You don’t even know his name. Just because he doesn’t ogle you and make lewd comments doesn’t mean he’s any better than the other men around here. It just means he’s better at keeping it to himself.”

     Teni could feel her face beginning to grow hot. She had been so happy a few minutes ago. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t like that. He scared off that bastard Mull. He was just trying to help me.”

     “He was just trying to _claim_ you, Teni. Think about it. The first time he bothers to engage you is when some customer puts his hands on you? He was jealous, territorial.” Min made a sour face and looked at Teni’s clenched fist.

      Teni was beginning to feel pressure behind her eyes. She didn’t know if she was beginning to believe Min or if she was just growing angry at her insistence. “But…he doesn’t go to that _shop._ I’ve never seen him walk in that direction, so he must not be like that.”

     Min shook her head, this time with a kind of confident finality, “That only means he has higher standards, Teni, and clearly he’s willing to pay for them. It doesn’t make him any better, though.” With that, Min collected a few items from the replicator and scuttled off across the bar.

     Teni leaned against the counter with her hand pressed firmly into her stomach. She looked down as she opened her fist and let her eyes roll over the glistening gold. The harpy’s words came ringing in her ears; _You make in a week what I make in a few hours._ The latinum in her hand was just about what Teni would make in a week, tips included. A jaded, suspicious part of her mind began wondering just how many hours the human might be expecting....

     She tried her best to forget the entire situation as she went about her work that morning, moving faster than usual and receiving slightly better tips for her diligence. Her newfound energy was no doubt partially a result of the good meal and excellent sleep she had enjoyed the night before, and the knowledge only added to her growing sense of hurt. By the time the afternoon rolled around, Teni’s own thoughts and Min’s confirming glances had completely convinced her. She had been bought. The human had purchased her like some engine part, and she hadn’t even realized it.

     _Bastard…. I’ll show him!_ She rubbed at her eyes when no one was looking and waited for the usual hour when he would arrive. With each passing moment her hurt only increased. She knew she had no cause to be _hurt,_ for he was not her friend and she had no reason to expect any kind of decent behavior from him. But she had _thought_ he was decent. In a way, he was betraying her imagination; her silly, childish imagination. She soon became distracted with thoughts of what she would say to him and how he might react. Nothing she came up with sounded harsh enough or eloquent enough, and so she rehearsed over and over, silently.  

     He appeared after the mid day rush, as expected, and walked directly to the single tables at the back. This time, Teni watched his confident casualness not with awe but with a seething disgust. _He must think very highly of himself. Cocky bastard!_

     He sat and immediately began looking over his data-pad. Teni waited until all of her other tables had been served and there was a reliable lull before she headed in his direction. She was breathing heavily and muttering her words to herself. Confrontation was not Teni’s forte, but she had to do this. She wasn’t going to yell or make a big scene, but she would get her point across.

     She stopped at the edge of his table and dropped her little fabric purse in front of him with a thud, “How dare you?”

     The human looked up slowly, his blank expression twisting into one of mild surprise, “What?”

     “You heard me.” She hissed, “How dare you think you can just…just… _buy_ me. I don’t want your money.”

     His light blue eyes widened in flash, and he shifted them from Teni to the purse and back again, “You think I am trying to _buy_ you?”

     She scoffed and gripped the edge of her tray tightly, “Don’t act innocent. I know how things work around here. Everyone expects something. You—You’re just like the rest! I don’t care if you _are_ human!”

     He lowered his data-pad now, which he had been holding all the while, and turned his body in her direction. His expression had changed again, and now looked…disappointed? His voice was low, “I told you that you were not merchandise.”

     “You’re a liar. Why else would you give me so much money?”

     “Teni, listen—.”

     “You don’t even know me!”

     “Would you be quiet—?”

     “I already spent some of it before I realized what you were up to, but I’ll replace it in a few days.” Her voice was cracking now, growing anxious.

     “Teni—.”

     “—and I’m not going to serve you anymore either—.”

     “Teni!” He stood up swiftly and faced her, his nose mere inches from hers. “Listen to me. I did not give you that money to _buy_ you. I gave it to you so that you would not have to _sell_ yourself.”

     She stood frozen in place, trying to make sense of his words. “You….What?”

     He stepped back to a more comfortable distance, “I have overheard conversations that you have with the other woman who works here. I know that you can barely afford to live on this station. I know that the people who operate the brothel have been pressuring you into working there because of your looks. I also know that if your expenses increase much more, you will have no choice to but take them up on their offer. I did not want you to have to do that. So I gave you some money. _That_ is all.”

     Teni continued to stand frozen, trying to process what he had said. Everything he had said about her situation was true, every word. The fact that he knew sent a fresh wave of humiliation down her back. What had she done?

      He took another step back and sank into his chair. He turned back toward the table and lowered his head, shaking it slightly.

     “I have gone out of my way to avoid interacting with anyone aboard this station.” He said quietly, his voice growing harsh, “And you just reaffirmed my confidence in that decision. Thank you.” He picked up the little cloth purse and jabbed it in her direction.

     Teni took it, not knowing what else to do, and began to shake. _My God, what a fool I am._ “I…I’m sorry.” She gasped, “I thought—.”

     “—the worst thing you could have possibly thought about me.” He finished. “I will not have my usual today, Teni. I don’t want anything.”

     She turned away, feeling utterly numb, and moved through the bar. When she was about half way to the kitchen she broke into a run and flew through the door. She collapsed into a fit of tears as soon as she was out of sight.

    

    

    

      


	3. Chapter 3

 

**_“Do not touch me.”_ **

     Lore stepped out of the airlock and sealed the door behind him, entering his ninety-seven character security code as soon as he was sure no one was watching. It certainly wouldn’t do for someone to see his fingers moving at such an inhuman speed. With the code finished, he stepped back, made sure the light turned red, and walked down the docking ring in the direction of the promenade.

     He would not be able to return to his vessel for at least six hours, for he had just initiated a full check of his ship’s security system. If so much as a speck of dust rose in the air, he would get an alarm signal through his communicator. The inconvenience would have been no inconvenience at all, since he spent several hours a day on the station anyway, but the events of yesterday had changed that.

    _I couldn’t just mind my own business, could I?_

    He made a sharp right turn and the corridor immediately opened up into the wider spaces of the promenade. He never ventured far inside, for there was nothing on offer in the promenade that he needed or wanted. Storlot’s Bar was one of the first businesses one encountered after leaving the docking ring, and it was the only place he ever went.

     As he neared the entrance, he hesitated. Perhaps he should go elsewhere this time.  Considering what had transpired the day before, it might be best to alter his routine permanently, and this time he would stick to his own rules. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t get involved. Don’t interfere. Why he had decided to involve himself in that Bajoran woman’s problems was beyond him, though he acknowledged that pity had something to do with it.

     There was a new experience for him; pity.

 _No._ His stubborn streak took over, and he suddenly resented the idea of changing anything. What had he done wrong, other than make the foolish decision to actually help someone? Well, no good deed goes unpunished, especially in the Beta Quadrant.

     Besides, he liked the view from Storlot’s bar. From his usual seat, he had a direct line of sight to the Sol System, to Earth. Of course, he could not actually see it, but he knew it was there. And he doubted that _she_ was even on Earth, but it was her home. It was where _she_ was from, and he missed her so damn much….

     _Don’t do this to yourself. Not today._

     He walked into the bar, being certain to keep his eyes forward and his expression blank. He took a seat at his usual table near the window and waited for the awkwardness to begin. As he waited, he faced the window and looked out through the murky haze of the nearby nebula. His reflection showed in the glass and he frowned. A flesh-toned face looked back at him, complete with minor skin imperfections and the slightest hint of chin stubble. His eyes were a light icy blue, and his hair was muted to a mahogany brown rather than its usual pitch black. The transformation was a work of detailed art, if he did say so himself.

     He hated it.

     He picked up his data-pad and continued with the El’ Aurian epic he had been reading for the last few days. He read at an average human pace. It filled the time, which he had much of, and really added to the reading experience.

     _There’s something to be said for suspense._ He remembered when Anna has said those words to him, not long after she had given him a book to read. It was the first thing anyone had ever given him. A part of him thought that she would like that he still read at a human pace, but it was an idle thought. She wouldn’t think anything of it.

     _She thinks I’m dead._

More than a year and half had passed since he had convinced Data to assist him in faking his own death. The suddenness of that decision—for it _had_ been sudden—in no way lessened his resolve that he had been right to do it. No doubt Anna was now living a much calmer, more confortable life free of fear and the constant ridicule of her peers. She didn’t need him around making her life impossible….

     “What can I get you?” Came a low alto voice. The other waitress, Min, was standing a few feet from him, a round serving tray propped on her ample hip. She gave him a disapproving look as she waited.

     Lore sighed. He did not feel like eating or drinking, but, as they say, the show must go on. “Coffee and a blue berry muffin.” He muttered.

     Min made a curt little nod and turned away from him, heading toward the replicator. He sighed irritably and turned his face back to the data-pad, but he was distracted. He had not intended to be so harsh with the Bajoran woman, Teni, but neither had he intended for her to throw a bag a latinum in his face and accuse him of monstrosities! His temper had taken over, as muted as the whole exchange had been, and he was still bristling from it.

     Why had he done it? What sudden surge of stupidity had led him to endanger his precious anonymity? He knew. It had been the actions of that disgusting Boslic. The way he had looked at Teni, spoken to her as if she were just some- _thing_ for him to play with, had all rubbed Lore the wrong way. He knew a little something about being treated like a thing, although his experience was nothing like the disgusting behavior Teni regularly tolerated.

He faced his data-pad once again and tried to become engrossed in the three part saga of _Kezza_ , the only piece of El’ Aurian literature to survive from the fifteenth century. Like most El’ Aurian literature, the story was a moral tale of self-enlightenment; the El’ Aurian version of _Siddhartha_. He read for several minutes, managing to become interested again, when someone stopped next to his table. He looked up and was quite surprised to see Teni holding a tray with a coffee and a blueberry muffin.

     He sat up, expecting the worst.

     “Um…here is your order.” She managed to say as she set the items on the table. Her face was flushed and she kept shifting her weight anxiously. Lore noticed that she still wore the more conservative dress she had sported the day before, which pleased him, much to his surprise.

     “Thank you.” He replied quietly. He took the cup and pulled it toward him. He had grown to like coffee, although he had started ordering it because it was something humans were known to drink, and he was trying to blend in. He was about to lift the cup to his lips when he noticed that Teni had not yet made a move to leave.

     _Oh, no. What?_

“I…eh,” Teni shifted again and brushed her hair out of her face, “I just wanted to say again how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have jumped to such a horrible conclusion.”

     Lore pressed his lips in a frown, “I doubt you ‘jumped’ to anything. It’s more likely you were pushed.”

     Teni gave him a confused look, until Lore shot a glance in Min’s direction.

     She colored terribly, “Oh! Did she say something to you?”

     “No, but it would make sense. You had clearly already spent some of the money.” He waved a hand at her dress, “So obviously you did not think something was wrong until yesterday morning. I would assume your friend…mmm…suggested my intentions?”

     She pressed her fingers to her lips in a strange show of anxiety and nodded several times. “Yes. Once again, I’m really sorry. And…thank you for the money. It was very kind of you.”

     Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. Only one other person had ever called him kind, and that person was a beautiful woman too. He quickly shook his head, “If you were forced to go to the brothel, you wouldn’t be here to wait tables.”

     Some of her anxiety vanished, to be replaced by a look of amused disbelief, “You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you? You gave me a week’s wages just to make sure I would stay here and bring you coffee?”

     He looked away from her. Yes, it did sound that ridiculous. His lying skills were growing rusty.  “Fine. Then it’s what I told you yesterday. You shouldn’t have to do…such things to survive. And that pathetic excuse for a man had no right to touch you.”

     Something in his tone, and the fact that he was no longer looking at her, told Teni that the conversation was over. She nodded politely and headed back into the bar to wait on other customers.

     Lore reached into his jacket pocket and removed a much smaller data pad, which he activated and scanned through quickly. The little pad had a direct uplink to his ship’s computer, and he was able to look over the various systems and check on the progress of the security simulation with great detail. He soon became absorbed, for his ship was one of the few things he had to truly occupy his time and motivation. Since retrieving the vessel from its hidden location on the Martzy Prime moon—hadn’t _that_ been a trial!—he had made numerous upgrades and design alterations. Rather soon, he was planning on installing a particularly ingenious propulsion system that would—.

     “Argh!”

     Lore turned his head just in time to see a tray full of bright orange drinks flying toward his head. He had time to turn his body slightly and lift his arm, but there was no stopping the wall of propelled liquid that splattered all over him. One of the glasses also struck him in the side of the head and shattered, leaving a nice thick sheen of orange goo in his hair.

     _$# &*%!_

“Oh my God!” Teni cried. She was on the floor on one knee, her sprawling form recovering from the near deadly slip she had taken coming up the short flight of stairs. The sound of shattered glass elicited a series of hoots and laughs from the other patrons, especially from the nearby group of Farians, for whom the drinks _had_ been intended.

     “My, my, Girlie!” One of the Farians shouted, “I hope you don’t expect us to pay for another round!”

     Teni pulled herself up by the stair railing just as Lore slowly rose to his feet. Glass shards, a still intact cup, and globs of thick orange syrup fell to the deck at his feet. He scraped a particularly thick glob from his forehead and slung it to the floor. The bar rose up in a renewed bought of laughter.

     “Oh! I’m sorry!” Teni gasped, “There was ice on the stairs. Someone must have spilled a drink earlier.”

     Lore didn’t say anything. He was too embarrassed and pissed off for words!

     “Are you okay?” Teni continued, pressing her knuckled to her chin, “Didn’t that glass hit you in the head?”

     Lore turned away quickly, “No.”

     “Are you sure? I could have sworn I heard it break when it hit you. It sounded _awful._ ”

     Lore lifted his hand to his head and was relieved when he felt no damage. “It didn’t hit me. It probably just broke against one of the other glasses.”

     Teni turned and quickly retrieved a set of towels from the service station while also ordering another round of drinks for the Farians. She went to the Farians just as Min appeared with a kind of vacuuming mop and a handful of towels. She said nothing to Lore as she began to very quickly clean up the mess. Lore stood still in the middle of it, feeling like the most ridiculous looking thing imaginable. Every move he made just seemed to spread the sickly-sweet smelling stuff further. Teni finished delivering the drinks and stopped in front of him with the handful of towels.

     He took one and was at least able to wipe most of it from his face and hair. He did not feel any _physical_ discomfort from the sticky mess beginning to dry on his skin, but a fresh sense of embarrassment more than made up for that. He couldn’t stand to be stared at.

     “I’m _so_ sorry.” Teni continued. Her frantic apologies were only drawing more attention from the already amused patrons. She reached out, seemingly unthinking, and used one of the towels to sop up some of the beverage from Lore’s chest.

     He stepped back quickly, pulling the towel from her hand, “I don’t need any help.”

     She fidgeted and her cheeks had grown so red that Lore feared she was about to pass out. Min finished with the floor and gave Teni some kind of meaningful look before she darted off with a pile of orange stained towels. Lore continued to stand, his suit too besmirched to tolerate much movement.

     “I’m sorry.” Teni said again, “Do you have a laundry processor on your ship?”

     “Of course.” He muttered. He reached for his data-pad then stopped. He grumbled irritably.

     “What’s wrong?”

     “I can’t go back to my ship for at least four hours.” He said.

     “Why?” Teni said, using a towel to clean up the table.

     “I’m running some system checks that require the ship to be locked down.” He sighed, “If I interrupt it now, I will just have to start everything over again.”

     “Oh.” She frowned heavily, her smooth brow wrinkling in a guilty way, “I’m sorry I’ve put you out.”

     “It was an accident.” He murmured. He could see that the young woman was nearly at the end of her tether, and as angry as he was he had no desire to see he break down into a fit of tears. He considered briefly what to do and decided that he could not bear to remain in public in such a state for four hours. He would just have to restart the security check from the beginning.

     “I have a laundry processor in my quarters.” Teni said suddenly, “You could use that.”

     Lore frowned immediately. That did not sound like a good idea. He had already involved himself too much with this woman as it was; he hardly needed to compound the problem further. But…. He looked at his soaked suit front and grumbled. It _would_ solve his immediately problem, and he would not have to break his ship’s lockdown.

     He sighed, “Where are your quarters?”

     “In section four, very close. It would only be a few minutes.” She said. She had averted his eyes again, more than likely embarrassed that she had made the suggestion. Not only had she insulted him in the worst possible way, but had added insult to injury by spilling a tray of drinks over him!

     Lore closed his eyes and shook his head, “Fine.”

     Teni nodded and excused herself for a moment to talk to Min. Lore did not bother increasing his hearing, but it was clear from the sudden scowl on Min’s face that she objected to whatever it was that Teni was telling her. Lore sneered. No doubt the woman was still convinced that he was little more than a licentious creep, and she was trying to convince Teni to leave him to his own devices.

     He hated to admit it, but Teni would probably benefit from taking her friend’s advice. _Gesteia Nor_ was not a nice place.

     “Okay, come with me.” Teni muttered as she joined him again. She had an ugly grey cloak thrown over her arm. She waited until they had reached the entrance to throw it over herself and pull the hood up. When she saw Lore’s questioning expression, she blushed.

     “I…um…I feel more comfortable moving around the station like this.” She managed to explain.

     Lore merely nodded. He did not have to guess why it made her more comfortable.

     He followed her into the promenade and through the sporadic crowds, watching with some interest the way she hugged the walls and shied away from certain people. It was a pathetic scene to watch, as he imagined that this was the way she always traversed the station; quick and afraid, trying to hide herself in the dark. As much trouble as she had caused him in the past twenty-four hours, he could not help but feel some pity for her now.

     As they turned a sharp corner and came to a particularly boisterous section of the promenade, he watched as Teni’s pace quickened. Despite her speed, she was not able to make much headway because of the thick crowd ahead, and was forced by an oncoming stream of people to move closer to a large establishment on their right. The place emitted a sultry red light into the promenade.

     “Teni! Are you off early or did you get fired?”

     Lore turned in the direction of the harsh, cackling voice. A tall woman with long blonde hair and a kind of jingling metal sash around her hips sauntered down the brothel steps and into Teni’s path. Even through the thick fabric of Teni’s cloak, he could see her shoulders stiffen.

     “Leave me alone.” Teni said as she made an attempt to step around the woman. She did not have much luck, as a group of oblivious men were blocking her way.

     “You really should be nicer to me, Teni.” The woman sneered, “Since I will more than likely be your boss. Some day.”

     Lore stopped close enough to Teni to indicate that he was traveling with her. He did not have time for this nonsense. He wanted his clothes cleaned so that he could return to the bar, allow his ship’s simulations to complete, and forget this entire series of events.

     The woman gave him an appraising look—too appraising—and turned narrowed eyes back on Teni, “Why, Teni. You aren’t _freelancing,_ are you? You know how we look down on that around here.”

     Teni could not ignore this and spun around, allowing her hood to fall away from her face. She glared at the woman with a look of utter contempt. “You—You shut up!”

     The woman grinned and turned toward Lore, her hand propped suggestively on her hip. She gave him a murderously seductive smile and leaned toward him, “There’s no reason for you to waste your latinum on inexperience, _handsome._ ”

     She reached out to lay her hand on his arm, but Lore swiftly grabbed her wrist. His voice was cold as ice, “Do not touch me.”

     The woman gasped, truly surprised, and took a stumbling step back. He released her and she glared at him with the most furious mixture of shock and anger. No man ever— _ever—_ rejected her most insistent charms.

     Lore sneered at the woman and resisted the urge to say several choice words. Instead, he grabbed Teni by her elbow and shouldered his way through the group, to many murderous but empty objections. He continued to pull her through the groups until they had reached the turn off for the section four residence quarters. Once there, he let her go and motioned an inpatient hand down the corridor, bidding her to finish leading the way. He wanted this over with!

     Teni scurried ahead, making several turns, until she stopped in front of one of the identical brown metal door in the corridor. She removed a thin grey pass key from her pocket and waved it in front of the panel. The door slid open with a laborious grown, which was assisted at the end by Teni pushing on it.

     The windowless room was pitch black. Teni stepped in with memorized precision and disappeared into the dark for a few seconds. A moment later a dim light from the far wall gave some illumination to the space. Lore stepped in and closed the door.

     The room was shockingly small. The door was in the corner, and from it to the opposite corner could not have been more than fifteen feet. The only furnishings were a low, narrow cot against the far wall, a small round writing desk, and an uncomfortable looking steel chair. A recessed shelf on the far wall held a few folded articles of clothing and what looked like a tiny jewelry box. The wall to the right sported a recessed replicator and a laundry processor, which looked like a cabinet with an airtight door.

     “Um....” Teni stood in the middle of the room and fidgeted with her hands, “The laundry processor is right here, so if you’ll just…um…give me your shirt and jacket….”

     Lore clenched his jaw as he removed his black jacket, then quickly unbuttoned his dark blue shirt. The irritating awkwardness was lessened by the blessed fact that he was wearing a black T undershirt. He handed the two soiled items to her without making eye contact. His pants also sported a few smudges of orange, but damned if he would be removing those!

     “It should just be a few minutes.” She muttered as she took the items and stepped near the processor. She opened the cabinet and inserted the items in a neat pile. She closed the door, tapped a few buttons on the panel, and…reached into her pocket for the cloth purse she kept there. Lore watched with some confusion as she removed a slip of latinum from the purse and inserted it into a tiny slot on the processor, obviously designed for just that purpose.

     Lore cringed. _They have to pay just to clean their clothes?_ A surge of pity ran through him.

     “You should have let me pay for that.” He said suddenly, “They are my clothes.”

     Teni made an anxious smile, “But I’m the one who spilled drinks all over you. Besides…you _did_ pay for it.”

     Lore grumbled and took the few moments to look over the room again. He had not been lying when he told Teni why he had given her the money. He knew all about the station and its hideous realities. It was one of the reasons he had decided to stay there for so long. It was unlikely that he would encounter any humans there, and even less likely that he would encounter any Star Fleet personnel. Living in the dark, murky fringes was the only option since he had made his fateful decision to vanish and never look back.

     But that was a lie. He did nothing _but_ look back….

     “I’m really sorry.” Teni said again suddenly.

     “My memory is fine. You don’t need to keep repeating it.” He snapped.

     Teni practically flinched and turned back to the processor, as if staring at it would make it work faster. Lore sighed and immediately regretted his clipped tone. He was not trying to be harsh or rude; he just could not risk the potential effects of acting any other way. The very last thing he needed at the moment was a friend.

     “I know it was not your fault.” He said after a few moments, “I’m not angry.”

     Teni’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit, “Okay. I’m glad…um… _human.”_

Lore actually laughed, more at the sneaky look she gave him than with the actual address. He had still not told her his name.

     “Would you please tell me your name?” Teni continued, “I feel like an idiot not knowing how to address you.”

     Lore shifted his weight and must have looked uncomfortable, for Teni continued.

     “Look, it doesn’t have to be your real name.” She said quietly, “I know how things are on this station. Just give me something to call you other than _human.”_

     He looked away, though he could see no real harm in it. She knew the other patrons’ names, and they were certainly not her friends. A name did not equal friendship. Plus, he had already given the station manager a false identification, since he needed one in order to dock his ship. Why not continue the charade?

     “My name is Arik.” He said simply.

     Teni smiled suddenly, “Arik? That’s a nice name.”

     He shrugged. It was the name of one of Dr. Soong’s ancestors. He had chosen it casually and with only a mild hint of familial sentiment. He waved a hand, “Teni is a nice name as well.”

     Teni practically beamed.

     _Oh, great…._

     “Thank you. It was my grandmother’s name.” She continued to fidget with her hands, using her finger nails to scratch at the cuticles on her opposing fingers, and he was beginning to wonder if there wasn’t something wrong with her. Perhaps she suffered from some kind of nervous system condition, and simply couldn’t afford the medical treatment.      

     “It’s done.” Lore said.

     “What?” She frowned.

     “The laundry processor. It’s finished.” He looked at the cabinet door.

     “Oh.” She nodded, bringing her mind back into focus, and opened the door. She removed the two articles, now spotlessly clean and a little warm, and handed them to him. He dressed with quick precision and stepped toward the door.

     “Here.” He said as he extended a single slip of latinum toward her, “For the processor.”

     “What? Oh, no! You’ve already given me money. It’s the least I could do—.”

     “I gave you that money for a reason, and it was not so that you could clean _my_ clothes.” He pressed the slip forward, insistent. As he looked at her now, a fair amount of his previous irritation evaporated. He could see that she was genuinely sorry, not just for the accidental mess but for the accusation she had made against him. Genuine remorse was rare, and even he could not ignore it.

     Teni sighed and took the little piece of precious metal from him. Her eyes were on the ground, “Why do you have so much money?”

     The question took him utterly by surprise. He looked down at her, “Why do you ask?”

     “Well…um…most of the men here are merchants, but the really wealthy ones are almost always…well….” She trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

     Lore narrowed his eyes harshly, “I am _not_ a member of the Orion Syndicate. I do not sell people!”

     She gasped and shook her head vigorously, “No, no! I didn’t mean that. I was referring to weapons. I thought maybe you were an arms dealer!”

    Lore closed his eyes and shook his head. What should he say? Being an arms dealer was nearly as bad as a being a slave trader, but he could see what Teni was doing. She was searching for some way to justify keeping the money he had given her, and the fact that she cared about its origin made him immediately think better of her. Even if he found her sense of ethics naïve, he could at least acknowledge that they were better than those of most the station residents.

     “It’s family money. Dilithium mining.” He said, averting his eyes toward the door. It sounded believable and innocent enough, which would have to do. He couldn’t very well tell her the truth. That he had robbed several Ferengi banks years ago, before he had met the Borg and begun the most destructive phase of his life. He had left the money aboard his ship, where it had sat untouched for more than eight years. It was only now serving a purpose.

     “Oh. Dilithium mining.” She nodded and was clearly trying to suppress a relieved smile, “So then, what are you doing out here? This place is awful.”

     His back stiffened. This was a question too far, “Do you ask all your customers why they are on the station?”

     “No.” She acknowledged, “But that’s because everyone knows everyone else’s business in this place. You’re the only one who seems to be here for no reason.”

     “My reasons are my own.” He said with harsh finality. He motioned toward the door, “We need to go.”

     She swallowed hard and nodded as she lifted her hood over her head again and stepped out into the dim corridor. Their journey back to the bar was quick and uneventful, mostly owing to the fact that Lore led the way and was relentless in pushing loiterers out of his path.

     Once there, he made a beeline for the table he had previously occupied, and set about checking his data-pad for any system updates aboard his ship. He turned his face toward the viewport and closed his eyes for a few seconds. As usually happened when he did this, he saw Anna’s smiling face. With his flawless memory he could see her sparkling deep blue eyes flashing at him, usually in the midst of a laugh or a secret smile. As good as his memory was, it was never enough. It could never be compared to the real thing, and he longed to see those eyes again.

     After a few minutes, his reverie was interrupted. Teni approached with a new serving of coffee and a blue-berry muffin. He should have known that she would.

     “Thank you.” He said as he took both items.

     “You’re welcome.” She said. As she lowered her tray, Lore noticed her fidgeting with her fingers again. Her cheeks were a little pink and she seemed to be chewing on the soft inside of her cheek.

     _What is wrong with her?_

     “Um…ok. I have to go.” She said as she finally turned and walked off into the bar. Lore watched her for a moment, wondering what bizarre nervous habit could be affecting her. It could not possibly be healthy. As he watched her approach a table of patrons and begin taking their orders, he noted that she was now _not_ fidgeting with her fingers. She had also stopped worrying the inside of her cheek, and….Was her blush entirely gone now?

     Lore frowned. Now that he thought of it, he had never seen her exhibit any of those characteristics when talking to other people or when she was on her own. It was just when….

     _Oh, shit._

It was only when she talked to him.

 

 

    

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**_“I, Data, being of sound mind and body….”_ **

**Starfleet Dry Dock. Earth Orbit.**

 

     “Have you had the full tour yet, Counselor?”

     “Twice. But I still anticipate needed some time to remember everything.” Deanna Troi replied, “It’s embarrassing  how many times I’ve had to ask the computer for directions.”

     “Well, if you need any help at all, just ask. I mean, I’m sure the Captain will be more than enough help. With the ship, I mean….”

     Troi gave Commander Michael Clare an amused glance. She could sense his unease like a wave of warm air, “I take it, Commander, that this will be the first vessel you have served on with a Captain _and_ the Captain’s wife?”

     Commander Clare frowned, “Am I that obvious? I don’t mean to seem like I’m concerned. I’m not.”

     “I know.” She assured him, “I’m sure the crew will get used to the idea very quickly.”

     Troi smiled at the first office of the _USS Titan_. It was true that he wasn’t too terribly concerned about the ship’s new counselor being married to the ship’s new Captain, William Riker. He was, however, concerned about the crew’s reaction. The ship’s counselor often served as a sounding board, an impartial third party to who exhausted officers could voice their irrational complaints. But, when the Counselor was married to the Captain….That certainly changed things.

     They continued to walk down the bright grey corridor toward the transporter room in silence. Clare had a lunch date on the station promenade with an old girlfriend, while Troi had a very different kind of appointment to make. He had almost forgotten about it, so casual had their conversation been.

     “Counselor, I just wanted to give my condolences on the loss of your colleague.” He said as they stopped outside the transporter room. “I never got a chance to meet Commander Data myself, but his reputation preceded him.”

     Troi swallowed hard and gave him an appreciative nod. Even now, nearly five weeks after Data had died sacrificing himself for Captain Picard and the _Enterprise_ , she still felt the threat of tears behind her eyes whenever he was directly mentioned. She had lost colleagues before, to be sure, but Data’s death was weighing on everyone hard. It wasn’t just that he had died in the line of duty. It was that he had died before he had barely had a chance to live. There was so much of life that Data had only just begun to experience. It was unfair.

     Troi gritted her teeth and put on a tight smile, “Thank you. He was an amazing officer. And a good friend.”

     Clare nodded cordially, knowing that he had no place saying more, and headed toward the transporter pad. He disappeared first into a hazy blue light while Troi prepared herself on the other pad. For the tenth time that morning she muttered her mantra to herself.

     _I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry._

 The little box she held tightly in her hands suddenly weighed a ton.

     Troi rematerialized in the darker confines of the _Enterprise_ transporter room. Beverly Crusher stood a few feet away, her hands held gently behind her back and a warm smile on her face. It had been nearly a week since Troi had had a chance to even see Beverly, so busy had she been with her new and mounting duties on the _Titan._ This meeting today would be one of her last with her old friends, her old crew. Life was moving on, and it was hard.

     “Deanna.” Beverly smiled and extended a hug to her good friend. The woman’s smile was bright and casual, but Troi could sense in her the same strain she was feeling. Their purpose today had been a long time in coming, and they had all been putting it off.

     Beverly took a deep breath, “Is that it?” She said, looking down at the little octagon shaped box in Troi’s hand.

     Troi nodded mutely.

     “What can we expect?” Beverly asked, “Please tell me he didn’t tell jokes.”

     Deanna laughed a little at that, imagining such a thing, “I actually don’t know. I haven’t looked at it.”

     “You haven’t?” Beverly was clearly surprised, “I thought you would want to…I don’t know. Be prepared.”

     Troi nodded her understanding, “Data included a written list of items in addition to the holographic will. I did look through all of that, and I collected some specific things from his quarters.”

     Beverly nodded, “I guess we had better go.”

     They began the short journey from transporter room one to the Captain’s temporary ready room, formerly the senior staff conference room. With the _Enterprise_ laid up in dry dock and the Captain’s regular ready room in a shambles, the conference room had been serving a dual purpose. Troi slowed a bit and turned to Beverly.

     “I’ll tell everyone else when we’re inside, but I thought you should know that Data did prepare personal messages for everyone. I haven’t yet been able to bring myself to look at mine.”

     “I can understand that.” Beverly admitted, “Though reading it might have explained why he left you as his executor. I know you’ve been wondering about that.”

     Troi nodded reluctantly. From the moment they had collected Data’s will from his personal computer and seen that he had named her his executor, she had been perplexed by the choice. She was one of Data’s closest friends to be sure, but she would have assumed that Geordi would be the logical choice, being his very best friend. Or even the Captain, for whom Data would have had every confidence in such a miserable task. She decided not to think much on it for now as they neared the conference room door and entered.

     The massive conference room table had been removed, to be replaced by the Captain’s desk and the usual assortment of sofas and arm chairs one would expect in a ready room. For this particular occasion, there were more seats than usual, as the room was nearly full with somberly chatting people.

     William Riker stood near the Captain’s desk, speaking quietly to Picard and Worf. Geordi stood near the lighted display case on the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Commander Reginald Barclay telling some kind of exuberant story, while Doctor Katherine Pulaski said cross-legged in one of the arm chairs, her gaze fixed on the  giant globe of Earth below.

     Troi headed directly for Pulaski. She was the only one among them that she had yet to speak to in person.

     “Deanna. It’s good to see you again.” Pulaski said as she stood slowly. The years had finally caught up with her, and she had some time ago traded in the blue of her Starfleet uniform for the anonymity of a civilian retirement. Her blonde hair was now a subdued grey-white.

     “It’s good to see you too, Katherine.” Troi replied, “I’m glad you could make it.”

     Pulaski nodded, but Troi could sense the unease coming from her. During the short time Pulaski had served as the _Enterprise’s_ chief medical officer, she had never grown particularly warm to Data. In fact, she had had a rather persistent habit of pointing out his failings and even, some would argue, being insulting. No doubt she was wondering why she was there.

     “Data requested that you be here.” Troi said gently.

     Pulaski smirked, “Mmm. That damned Betazoid sense of yours. I didn’t even have to say anything, did I?”

     Troi shrugged with a smile, and was about to ask her how her retirement was going, when Reginald Barclay suddenly appeared at her side and took her hand in a fierce shake.

     “Deanna, I’m so glad to see you again!” Barclay gushed. His usual over the top exuberance did not appear to be lessened today, despite the occasion. No doubt he responded to grief the same way he did to every intense emotion; by talking too much and too loudly.

     “I haven’t seen you since the Voyager project!” He said, still shaking her hand.

     “Yes. It’s good to see you again, Reg. How is everything going with our little friend?”

     Barclay released her hand finally and brought his hand to the back of his neck, a typical nervous gesture. “Oh, good, good. With me, anyway. Spot really doesn’t like my neighbors, though. She scratched Mrs. Johansen’s dachshund across the nose. I’ve had to keep her inside.”

     Riker, who had just moved within earshot of the conversation, snorted, “That animal is a damn menace. She hates everyone.”

     “Except Reg.” Troi pointed out quickly, “Which is why I really hope Spot can stay with you. Reg, thank you for taking care of her all this time.”

     Reg nodded silently, which was an accomplishment for him. Troi suspected, very heavily, that Data would leave responsibility for Spot to Reginald. He was the only person other than Data for who the cat had ever showed any kind of tolerance. Waiting for the reading of the will was just a formality.

     “Counselor.” Picard said by way of greeting as he came forward. His jaw was tense, and his lips set into a tight line. Troi knew, though she had never broached the subject with him, that Picard felt a heavy weight of guilt over Data’s death. It was not bad enough that Data had directly sacrificed himself to rescue the Captain from the _Scimitar_ , but the entire incident with Schinzon had been about capturing Picard. With those two things weighted against him, it was unlikely that Jean-Luc Picard had come to any other conclusion but that he had cost his friend his life.

     Troi knew it just as surely as she knew she would never mention it.

     “Captain.” She nodded.

     “How are preparations going on the _Titan?_ ” He asked.

     “I would be surprised if Will hasn’t already told you everything and more.” Troi said, “The launch date has been set for two weeks.”

     Picard frowned. The _Titan_ had been originally scheduled for launch more than a month ago, but the near destruction of the _Enterprise_ had set the time table back substantially. Not only had Captain Riker been significantly held up from taking his new post, but the deaths aboard the _Enterprise_ had led to substantial rearrangement of personnel across several starships. The federation flagship had lost more than a hundred officers and crew in the fatal collision.

     The muted conversation continued for several more minutes as everyone meandered around how to get started. As the executor, Troi knew that it was her unofficial place to rein in the proceedings. She didn’t want it to feel like a senior staff meeting, for they weren’t there as colleagues today. They were there as friends.

     Troi sat the little octagon-shaped box on the sideboard against the far wall and stepped back. Everyone had taken a place on the opposite side of the room and slowly took their seats. Only Worf continued to stand, his arms folded hard over his chest.

     “Data requested that all of you be here today.” Troi said, her voice low and even, “He prepared personal messages for all of you, which I’ll hand out at the end. He also requested that I gather certain…items from his quarters that he meant to leave specifically.” She took a deep breath to still her voice. Riker noticed and placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

     She continued, “I decided that we should all view Data’s will together, so I haven’t seen it yet. But, I think I have a pretty good guess which items are intended for who.” She stood and moved toward a low grey cargo contained next to the door, which she had previously arranged to be transported there. She swallowed hard, “I think we should just let Data take it from here.” She pressed a control on a small key pad she held and waited.

     The octagon box opened and a sharp beam of light cut into the room. The light stopped at a point just in front of the Captain’s desk and formed into a sudden, and very sharp, hologram. Unlike most holographic wills, which were designed to be semi-transparent and ethereal, Data’s image was as solid and steady as real life.

     Troi felt the shock move through her friends.

     Data—or the hologram thereof—hesitated for a moment before he held his hands in front of himself and smiled lightly. “I, Data, being of sound mind and body….”

     “Oh, my God.” Riker groaned as he covered his face with both hands. There were awkward looks all around just as Data’s voice halted suddenly. Everyone looked up and saw that he was smiling.

     “Do you see, Geordi? I made a joke.” Data said proudly.

     “Ah, man, Data.” Geordi chuckled, shaking his head. “Timing never was your strong suit.”   

     Data’s hologram smiled once more before his expression fell to something calmer. In fact, his expression had suddenly changed to something close to…haste.

     “If my friends and colleagues are viewing this now, it means that my attempt to rescue Captain Picard from the _Scimitar_ was successful, and I was killed in the resulting explosion.”

     Picard sat stock straight in his seat, “What the Devil?”

     “I am taking these last available moments to update this portion of my will.” Data continued, “If I am— _was_ successful, I would like Captain Picard to know that I do not begrudge my actions. My life to this point has been as full and meaningful as it has been due in no small part to you, Captain. I have no doubt that had I served aboard a different vessel, under a different Captain, that I would not be the person that I am. In fact, it is quite likely that I would not even be alive today.” Here, Data paused, and his eyes darted to the left as if seeing something they could not. “I must go now. The rest of this file will continue after this point. Good Bye.”

     Troi darted her eyes at Picard. Some of the color had left his face, and his jaw was clenched even tighter than before.

     “I remember that.” Geordi said suddenly, “He was standing in front of a console doing something when I came to get him, to tell him it was time. I never asked what he was doing, and I never thought about it afterwards.” Geordi shook his head, “No one was as thorough as Data.”

     Before anyone could react further, the hologram blinked and Data’s usually mild expression had returned. His hands were once again held in front of him.

     “It is customary for humans to bequeath certain processions in a manner that holds sentimental as well as explanatory value. I have included personal messages for each of my close friends, but I will take this moment to acknowledge particular persons and why I would like them to have the items I have specified.

     “Captain, I would like you to have my copy of the complete works of Shakespeare. As a gift from you, I took much of its contents to heart, and it seems appropriate that you should have it back.”

     Troi removed a thick leather bound volume from the crate and held it in both hands as she crossed the room. Picard took the book with a nod and strained smile. Troi realized she was holding her breath, and slowly released it.

     Data’s hologram continued, “To Counselor Troi, I would first like to thank you for undertaking the responsibility to be the executor of my will. I will explain my reasons for that choice in the private message I have prepared for you. You have expressed on more than one occasion your liking of the oil painting I composed of the _Enterprise-D_ after its demise. I would like you to have it. And to Commander Riker, I would like you to have my card and poker chip set. I specifically engineered the cards to block ultra-violet light, so Geordi will no longer be able to peak through them.”

     Riker laughed, loudly and opened. Geordi joined in too and shook his head.

     “I never peaked before a hand was over, Data. You know that!” Geordi said through his laughs.

     Data had indeed known that, which was why his holographic image was suppressing an amused smile. Troi covered her lips for a moment, more to hold back tears than to block her own smile. It really was as if Data was standing right there.

     “And you for, Geordi,” Data continued, “I have a surprise. You have always expressed an interest in nautical history, and so I have built by hand a scale model of the navy brig _USS Enterprise,_ complete with silk sails.” Data smiled somewhat proudly, as if he knew that Troi were at that moment gingerly lifting the two foot long model out of the crate. It was a perfect replica of the fictional vessel on which they had all celebrated Worf’s promotion some years ago.

     Geordi stepped forward and cupped his hands under the little wooden hull, looking over it with a mixture of surprise and honor. He ran his finger down one of the tiny white ropes.

     “If, at this date, this instruction is still present in my will, it means that I have died before your forty-fifth birthday, Geordi. I had intended to give you the model as a birthday present. Happy birthday.”

     Geordi took a deep breath and just shook his head. It was the only respectable reaction he was capable of at the moment.

     Data’s mood brightened again, and his hologram shifted its weight, “Since we are on the topic of the _USS Enterprise_ , I would like to speak to Dr. Crusher next. Doctor, I have always considered my single greatest failing in humor to be the unfortunate incident wherein I pushed you over the railing of the ship and into freezing salt water.”

     Crusher laughed and covered her mouth. She hadn’t thought about that in years. “Yeah, that was pretty bad, Data.”

     “While you did forgive me…eventually, I have always regretted the incident. As such, I think it is only fitting that you have my Royal Navy bicorn hat, since yours was ruined with salt water.”

     Troi chuckled as she removed the antiquated bicorn hat from the crate and took it to Beverly. She held it with both hands for a moment before she straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and popped the cap on her head with a smile, “Thank you, Data. I really _do_ forgive you.”

     Data’s image continued, “I am hopeful that Dr. Pulaski is present, because I have a specific gift that I would like her to have.”

     At this, Katherine Pulaski edged forward in her seat, looking mildly uncomfortable. Troi could sense a bitter mixture of embarrassment and regret from the woman. Clearly she had never expected Data to turn into the thoughtful, emotional being that he eventually did.

     “You once told me,” Data continued, “that my ‘methodical way of looking at the world’ would keep me from ever achieving anything close to humanity. However, you also told me that failure is human, and that I should not look upon my shortcomings as an indication that I will never be human. Rather, they were an indication that I was already closer than I thought.”

     Pulaski actually gasped, and pressed her wrinkling fingers against her lips.

     “I would like to thank you for that. I truly believe that had I not come to that realization when I did, when _you_ demanded that I acknowledge it, I may have eventually given up my pursuit of humanity.” Data lifted his holographic hand, which now suddenly held a small brown and black stone. The stone was emitting a soothing, almost alto melody, slow and cascading. “You will recognize this as an Elanin singer stone. When I gave one of these to a child many years ago, you told me that it would not sing for me as it does for everyone else. You were correct, it did not. However, I acquired another one sometime later, and it _does_ sing for me now.”

     Pulaski was shaking her head and holding her eyes smoothly closed. She wasn’t a Starfleet officer anymore; she didn’t wear the uniform. She felt no inhibition to crying, and a tear ran down the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry, Data.”

     “I do not say this to gloat or to say ‘I told you so’.” Data assured her kindly, once more surprising everyone with the illusion that he could hear them, “I only wish you to see the result of your good advice. Had I given up on my pursuit of humanity, I am sure this stone would not sing for me now. I would like you to have it, although it will sing a different song for you, as it does for everyone.”

     Pulaski took the glassy-smooth stone from Troi and cupped it in her hands. It immediately began to sing a high-pitched, twinkling tune, like Mozart played on bells. She set the stone in her lap to quiet it and wiped a swift hand over her cheek. She said nothing more. She couldn’t.

     “And to my friend, Worf,”

     Worf looked up sharply and lifted his chin. Ever the warrior.

     “I have always respected your personal disfavor of emotional public displays. As such, I promise to keep my address brief and…honorable.” Data seemed to smile a bit at his own wording, “I have learned much from my friends, but from you in particular I have always learned that honesty and bravery are high ideals worth pursuing, no matter what the situation. I would like you to have the Romulan ceremonial blade that I confiscated from Sela when Captain Picard and I were on Romulus. Since it is, in effect, a battle trophy, I believe you will appreciate it most.”

    Worf grumbled some kind of inaudible approval.

    “And,” Data continued, “Since the telling of battle stories is a Klingon tradition, I will relate to you the manner in which I captured the blade from Sela in my personal message to you.”

     Geordi and Riker laughed openly, and even Picard snickered a little. That was going to be entertaining, no doubt.

     “Reginald Barclay.”

     “Yes.” Reg said suddenly, as if Data could actually hear him. He immediately cringed, feeling a bit foolish, and pressed his knuckles against his lips.

     “Reg, I regret not seeing you very often since you left the Enterprise, but your friendship was always appreciated. I have a particular request to make of you. I would be honored if you would care for my cat, Spot. As you already know, you are the only other person she seems to like. I realize that this is more of a responsibility than a gift, but I hope that you will come to view Spot as a gift.” He paused, “I considered her a gift.”

     “Mmm.” Reg nodded vigorously and continued to press his knuckles to his lips. The poor man was starring at the ceiling in an attempt to keep it together.

     Troi stepped away from the crate, knowing that their purpose there was nearly at an end. Riker moved over as she retook her seat and watched the holographic image of their departed friend. What would he say in farewell that he had not already said? Troi lowered her eyes and smiled. They had all known that Data was thoughtful, perhaps even sentimental, but they had never really understood the extent of it. He truly had only just started living.

     “And for my brother, Lore,”

     Everyone looked up sharply.

     “I have also prepared a personal message, which you, Counselor, will deliver.”

     Riker frowned, shaking his head, “What’s this? Lore?”

     “To Lore, I hereby leave the remainder of all my personal possessions, including the custodianship of my daughter Lal’s remains. I also transfer to him any and all legal attachments or responsibilities that I may have upon my death.”

     There was a dead silence in the room for several seconds. Only Data’s persistent voice broke it.

     “I did not include Lore in the list of persons I would like to be present here, because I still understand the disfavor that many of you have for him. And….” Data shrugged, “I could not be certain that he would agree to attend.”

     “What’s going on here, Deanna?” Crusher asked suddenly.

     Troi shook her head, “I…I can only imagine that Data never updated this portion of his will. He must have prepared this when Lore was still alive.”

     Geordi frowned, “Maybe Data was even more sentimental than we thought.”

     Troi nodded. It was what she would have said, as a trained psychologist, but it didn’t quite feel right.

     “I guess that must be the case.” She said, “This was definitely the only will in his file.”

     “I would like to thank all of you,” Data continued, “For being good friend and colleagues, and for always assisting me in my pursuit to be more human.” He hesitated for a moment and lowered his eyes, the first true display of heavy emotion he had shown throughout the entire reading, “I do not flatter any of you when I say that it is very unlikely that I could have been surrounded by better models of humanity. Your example, as well as your help, was nothing short of instrumental in my life. Thank you.” He hesitated again before the image blinked and vanished.

     Data was a gone.

     There was a short silence as people exchanged glances and rose to their feet. Captain Picard approached his desk, where a tray of glasses sat next to a bottle of vintage _Chateaux Picard_ merlot. He began pouring out lengths as everyone stood and gathered round. They lifted their glasses silently.

     “To Data.” Picard intoned.

     “To Data.” Everyone replied.

 

***

 

     Later that afternoon, Deanna Troi sat in her vacant office aboard the _Titan_ and checked her appointment schedule. There were two cancellations back to back, and she was silently relieved for it. All afternoon she had been feeling uneasy about Data’s apparently outdated will. It wasn’t like Data to neglect such things.

     She sat down her appointment schedule and picked up the small yellow chip that contained her personal message from Data, as well as the one intended for Lore, apparently. She had not yet looked at it, and felt somewhat guilty about that. Resolute, she leaned forward and inserted the chip into the port on the edge of her desk. Her console screen activated and a message appeared. But, it was not what she had expected.

 

Counselor,

     The contents of this message are for your eyes only. Please enter your security passcode.

 

     Troi hesitated. Did everyone else’s personal message begin like this? She entered her passcode and leaned back, feeling uneasy. A dense message roughly half a page long appeared, and Troi read intently.

Counselor,

     If you are reading this, it means that I have died and that you have taken upon yourself the duty of being my executor. I chose you specifically, Counselor, because I believe that you are the person best suited to carry out my final request.

     At the end of this file you will find an addendum containing instructions to an encrypted source communication route, as well as an encrypted message. I require you to transmit, as soon as possible, that message along the specified route. I regret that I cannot tell you the nature of this message, nor can I tell you for whom it is intended.

     I trust you implicitly, Counselor, but I made a promise that bars me from sharing any information with you. It is because of this that I will understand if you choose not to undertake another duty. I request that you affix your official Starfleet communications signature to this encrypted message. I understand that this would not only be a violation of Starfleet regulations, but also of your own ethics. I can only tell you that it is very important to me and to others.

     I assure you that the content of this message is in no way illegal, nor will it impugn you for having signed it. I can, however, tell you that it is very important to me, and I truly believe that it is for the best. I would have sent this message myself, eventually, but since I am making this request of you it means that I never got the chance.

Your Friend & Colleague,

Data, Commander. _USS Enterprise_

 

     Troi leaned back in her seat slowly. At the bottom of the screen, a small icon representing the encrypted message blinked at her. She was shocked, and unbearably intrigued. That Data would want a message transmitted after his death was curious enough, but all the subterfuge left a weight in her stomach. Her suspicions were playing havoc with her, but they were just that—suspicions. They were absurd and impossible, and she shook them from her mind just as quickly as they appeared.

     She reread the message twice more, taking in every word. Data clearly thought this message was important, and even mentioned that it was important to ‘others’. What others? Who else had an interest in this? Her first inclination was seek out Will or Captain Picard, to ask their advice, but she knew where they would go. They would immediately transmit the details of the communications route to the experts at the Neptune Deep Space relay station and have them hunt down the final destination of the message.

     Troi knew she could not allow that to happen. For whatever reason, Data had clearly intended this to remain a private matter, and she had to respect that. Of course, Data had been right about his request being mildly illegal. It was a direct violation of Starfleet regulations to sign any document or communication while being knowing ignorant of its contents. That fact did nothing to dissuade her. Data had a made a request, a final request, and she would be damned if she would deny him.

     Troi took the chip out of the slot and headed for the subspace communications room on deck five. She had a message to send.

 

 

    

    

    

    

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**_“It feels good to talk to someone.”_ **

     Lore stepped back from the console and looked over the green and gold display with nothing short of pride. After nearly seventy-two hours of non-stop work, he was certain that he now had the single most efficient and impenetrable shielding system in the known galaxy. Even the Borg did not have it this good, so that would include the Delta Quadrant. He was certain, from countless simulations, that his little vessel could now withstand a full scale assault from a Borg cube for no less than two hours before system failure. Nothing like it had ever been created, and its design was nothing short of ingenious.

     He shrugged.  

     Not that he _needed_ the advanced shielding. It was superfluous in the extreme, but the entire process from design to finish had been remarkably distracting. Lore needed distraction, perhaps more now than ever before. When he had lived on the Enterprise he had needed distraction from his past, from the horrible memories of his crimes, but those had died down some time ago. He still thought about them, sometimes, but it was something else now that tormented him.

     _I miss you, Anna._

     He deactivated the console and stepped back. He was not tired or weary—ever—but he _had_ been working for nearly three days without interruption, and he felt that deserved some kind of leisure. His usual mode of relaxation, if one could call it that, was to read. Over the course of the last year and half, Lore had consumed hundreds of books of every conceivable genre, reading each at an average human pace. Since he had docked his vessel at _Gesteia Nor_ , he had taken to the habit of reading aboard the station, but now….

     He groaned aloud and clenched his jaw in frustration. That Bajoran woman…. How could he not have seen it earlier? The way she always tried to talk to him, the way she fidgeted in his presence. Even her heart rate was faster when she spoke to him, yet he had always been so obliviously distracted that he had not noticed. The woman _liked_ him. It was entirely possible that she was even attracted to him.

     The prospect was not pleasant, and he once again reproached himself for having interfered with her concerns. She was a young, very beautiful woman who worked aboard a notorious space station. Certainly she had grown accustomed to the lewd and insulting advances of the various men who patronized her bar. In fact, what had happened several days before was no doubt a routine occurrence for her, and she would have been fine without his assistance.

     Yes, that was it. He nodded, convincing himself of the fact, and decided that there was no reason to change his habits now. He would simply make it clear to her, either directly or indirectly, that her feelings were _not_ reciprocated. He picked up a data-pad containing his most recent reading material and turned to head toward the airlock, when he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the console. He was a quite a sight!

     After being on his hands and knees in every nook and cranny of the ship for the three days, his clothes were dirty and stretched, and there were several dark shadows across his face. He briefly considered going as he was—he would probably blend in better—but a hint of personal vanity prevented him.

     He dropped the pad and immediately began stripping as he walked the distance across the bridge toward the living quarters off the right corridor. It was the only living quarters aboard the ship which he had not entirely gutted of useless creature comforts. He had decided that one functioning living quarters was enough to keep up his human façade, even though he had no intention of ever allowing anyone aboard his ship. Still, for the sake of unforeseen circumstances, it was worth it.

     The large room contained a bed, nightstands, and various pieces of empty furniture. He strolled past the wide viewport, dropping articles of clothing as he went—he would pick them up later—and disappeared into the shower. Once again he considered replacing the water shower with a sonic shower. The ship’s original designers—for he had acquired this vessel some years ago—had built it with an eye toward decadent luxury, a tinge that Lore had spent a good deal of his time stripping away. For every advance he added in defense or propulsion efficiency, he removed some useless system designed to coddle humanoids. Still, with all the vessel’s failings, he did not regret his choice. It was a discontinued custom design, extremely rare, and thus difficult to identify.

     He stepped out of the shower, dressed quickly, and headed once more for the station. As usual, when he stepped outside the airlock those who happened to be nearby gave him curious and covetous glances. Many of the security upgrades he had made to his vessel were a direct result of the fact that his ship was a target. A ship like his stood out among the ancient and degenerating cargo freighters and cast-off Ferengi transports. He entered his outrageously complex security code into the number pad and headed toward Storlot’s bar.

     As he walked, thoughts of Anna comforted him—and plagued him. He missed her so much, and yet he could not bring himself to believe that he had made a mistake in leaving. He was a target for revenge—rightful revenge—and he could not accept that Anna might be harmed in the crossfire. It was a very distinct possibility, for it had already happened once. In addition to that, there was the secondary—though no less important—concern of her friendships and career. How many people had ceased speaking to her because of her relationship with him? How had her career been damaged? He did not like to think of it, though he was sure that whatever damage had been done was less than if he had stayed.

     It would be so easy to go back. Just a few days travel at warp eight and he could be with her again.

     _You’re a selfish bastard, Lore._

     He could not go back; he knew that, and he repeated the refrain to himself.

     Storlot’s was even more crowded and raucous than usual, and Lore had to weave his way through the crowd to reach his usual table near the far window. Just as he reached the short flight of steps leading to his table, a group of laughing Broslics swooped in front of him from the upper landing and fell into the chairs around his usual table. Lore immediately recognized Mull amongst the group, which was not difficult since the man was staring directly at Lore with a look of deep satisfaction.

     “You’re too slow, _human._ ” Mull sneered as he plopped down into Lore’s chair. His fellows pulled chairs from the nearby tables and gathered around, despite the very obvious fact that the table was too small for their group, and there were larger tables available nearby. The men glanced at Lore and back to Mull repeatedly, clearly waiting for something entertaining to happen.

     Lore clenched his fist at his side and stepped forward. He knew he should just walk away, sit somewhere else, but he had never been very good at suppressing anger in favor of logic.

     Mull saw Lore’s angry demeanor and smiled, “What are you doing out here anyway, _human?_ You’re rather far from the soft pillow of your Federation.”

     The others, either amused or pretending to be so, divulged into fits of laughter. Lore shifted his weight forward, prepared to introduce Mull’s head to the hard wall behind him, when his damned sense of reason intruded. If he attacked the man, his friends would no doubt come to his aid, and Lore could not very well fight off six men without blowing his cover in a very public way. The other alternative—pretended to get beaten up—was not only aesthetically impossible, but an insult to his pride.

     He stepped back and almost smiled. Perhaps another route would work.

     “That’s fine.” Lore shrugged casually, his voice taking on a nasally, congested quality, “I have a _terrible_ case of the Therelian flu, so I should probably sit further away from the environmental ducts anyway.”

     Mull’s expression fell and several of his friends looked immediately sick. It was with good reason. The Therelian flu was fatal to Broslics.

     “You’re sick?” One of the men demanded, cringing.

     Lore shrugged again, and actually wiped at his nose with his sleeve, “Just a little, I guess. Although, I’m sure you don’t have to worry about catching anything. They regularly sanitize the tables here, right?”    

     Mull’s companions fell into various expressions of worry and disgust as they rose quickly from the table. It was all Lore could do to suppress his laughter while continuing to rub his nose and look generally pathetic. Only Mull lingered, rising slowly from the table as he maintained an ominous stare on Lore. He clearly was not buying the act, but what did it matter? His friends had.

     “Come on, Mull! We’re making bets at the dabu table!” One of the Broslics shouted, already bored with Mull and Lore’s confrontation.

     Mull reluctantly stepped away from the table, and was sure to move within inches of Lore as he sauntered slowly down the stairs. As he passed, he said in a harsh whisper, “Be careful, _human._ This station has many dark corners.”

     Lore scoffed, “I’ll try not to trip.”

     He wasted no time falling into his usual chair and lifting his data pad in front of his eyes. It was to show his lack of concern as much as anything else, and he was certain to show a sickly-sweet smile whenever Mull glanced his way.

     _Call me ‘human’ one more time…._

     “You shouldn’t have done that.”

     Lore recognized Teni’s strained whisper, and turned to look over his shoulder. She was standing a few feet behind him, somewhat hidden in the shadow of a pillar. She had her tray clenched in front of her, as she often did, but it did little to hide her bare legs and overly exposed chest.

     Lore frowned immediately. Why was she wearing those clothes again?

     She moved to his side and raised her tray, giving every impression that she was just taking his order. Instead, she continued, “You shouldn’t have done that. Mull is trouble. _Nothing_ but trouble.”

     Lore snorted dismissively, “I am _not_ worried.”

     Teni leaned in even closer, and Lore almost scooted his chair back to increase their distance, but decided it wasn’t necessary when he saw the genuine look of fear and worry on her face. “You don’t understand. I asked around about him after…after the other day. He’s really bad. He does collections for the Orion Syndicate. Do you know what that means?”

     Lore could easily guess, but remained silent.

     “It means he _kills_ people.” Teni actually shuddered, “People who can’t pay their debts to the Syndicate, they disappear a lot, and Min’s sister told me that Mull is one of the people who…you know…makes that happen.”

     Lore wanted to laugh. Good God, he wanted to laugh! But the intensity of Teni’s worry told him that she wasn’t going to leave the subject alone until he showed some kind of concern. He forced himself to make a genuine looking frown and nodded a few times.

     “Alright. I’ll keep my distance.”

     She released a heavy breath and glanced over her shoulder, “Yeah. I wish that I had that option.” She turned back to Lore and attempted a smile, “Do you want your usual?”

     “Yes, Teni.” He sighed. Looking past her, he could clearly see that Mull was waiting for her, his eyes running up and down her form in a manner that was practically sickening. For a moment, Lore’s forced detachment was weakened when he imagined someone looking at Anna that way, or ever touching her without her consent. The sudden empathy sent a surge of anger through him.

      He grabbed Teni’s arm just as she began to walk away.

     _What are you doing, Lore?_

     “Don’t wait on them.” He said harshly. It was almost a command.

     Teni’s eyes widened in surprise, “I…I don’t have a choice. They’re in my section, and…I can’t do anything to get fired. I’m too easy to replace.”

     “Say you’re ill. Don’t work this evening.” He insisted. He could see that Mull was planning to make Teni’s night particularly unpleasant, if for no other reason than to get back at Lore for embarrassing him.

     Teni hesitated, unable to string two words together. She seemed inordinately distracted by the fact that Lore was still holding her arm.

     Lore released her quickly. What the hell was he doing? This woman was absolutely no concern of his; he didn’t even know her! He turned away from her abruptly, harshly, and picked up his data-pad.

     _Don’t be stupid. Just leave it alone._

     “I’ll have my usual, Teni.”

     She nodded slowly, reeling from his unexplained shift in demeanor, and walked away. Lore stubbornly buried his attention in the data-pad and tried to find renewed interest in the experimental long-range propulsion system he had been developing. He looked up when Teni returned after a few minutes, coffee and muffin in hand.

     “Here you go.” She muttered sheepishly and she set both items down. Lore tried to ignore her, but could not suppress the twinge of pity when he saw her try to lengthen her skirt by covertly pulling it down, only to achieve defeat by exposing more of her hips.

     “Why are you wearing that?” He said suddenly.

     Teni jumped at the almost irritated nature of his tone, “Well…I….”

     Lore could see Mull’s eyes, as well as those of several others, shift their way with amusement. He glared at Teni, “You’re clearly uncomfortable, Teni. Why aren’t you wearing your new clothes?”

     Teni shifted her weight again and looked at the floor. “My boss...he didn’t like my new clothes. He said I couldn’t wear them to work.”

     Lore cursed something incomprehensible under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was angry at Mull, Teni’s situation, or the fact that he apparently could not _leave it alone._ He made a curt nod and turned back to his data pad.

      Teni returned to her duties.

      Between his propulsion system and the various books he was reading at the moment, Lore managed to occupy himself for the remainder of the evening, despite the occasional nasty glance in Mull’s direction. Each look was prompted by some new irritation, all directed at Teni. First, Mull whistled at her to get her attention, then proceeded to hold his hand across her lower back while she took their orders and cleared their used glasses. Lore did not care that Mull touched Teni. He cared that _Teni_ cared, and the sudden stiffening of her back each time Mull touched her was more than proof that she found him repulsive.

     Lore could not fathom tolerating such a thing. The only time someone had ever touched him without his consent was when he was deactivated and strapped to a lab table. He shook those thoughts away, and Teni along with them, and stubbornly focused on his work for the rest of the evening.

     As closing time came, Teni and Min were able to shoo the patrons out with a little more ease than normal. As usual, Teni made a point of leaving him last. He wondered if she never bothered him because she knew he would easily leave of his own accord, or if she did so because she was trying to prolong his stay. Knowing what he knew now— _damnit!—_ he guessed it was the latter.

     With the remainder of the time left, he gave up on his propulsion schematics and decided to make a quick check of his vessel. He closed the files and shifted them aside with a swipe of his finger and instead brought up the overview program of his ship’s internal systems. He was able to maintain a constant uplink with his vessel in spite of the fact that the station managers tried their best to dampen signals aboard the station. He scanned through the various systems, checking first security than energy readouts. As usual, there were no changes and nothing to concern him. It wasn’t until he saw an indication of a subspace transmission that he sat up in his seat.

     _It’s nothing,_ he assured himself. The transmission route that would lead to his account in the Orion Syndicate subspace messaging system was encrypted, remarkably complex, and known by only two people in the universe; Data and a Nausicaan trader named Shoek. Lore had purchased several very rare and very illegal Borg components from Shoek over the past several weeks, and had been forced to give him some means of contacting him. He was sure the message was nothing more than yet another follow-up from Shoek, explaining why it was proving difficult to find a Borg transwarp coil, and he would have to raise his fee, blah, blah, blah….Lore was about to open the message program to confirm this when Teni suddenly appeared at his side. There were almost ten minutes left until the actual closing time, but Teni had already managed to empty the bar of patrons.

     “That was pretty funny.” She said, “The thing with the Therelian flu.”

     Lore smiled lightly, “And I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

     “Oh? Confronting Mull, yes, but how you did it is still funny.” She replied. She was holding her empty tray in front of herself again and shifting her weight as she tried to prolong their exchange.

     Lore sighed. He did not want to be cruel to her. He really didn’t. It would be different if she were just trying to be his friend, but….Was he overreacting here? Maybe she _was_ only interested in being his friend, or at the very least she only harbored a mild crush, which would be fleeting anyway. Surely that wasn’t so bad?

     He hesitated just long enough to give Teni an opening, and she stepped a little closer to the table, “I know it isn’t any of my business, but…why are you on this station?”

     Lore’s expression flashed with exasperation, and Teni quickly put up a staying hand.

     “I’m sorry. Really. I don’t mean to pry, it’s just….I’ve _never_ seen a human on this station. Not once.” She shook her head, “I’m just wondering why one of you would let yourself be in a place like this.”

     _One of you…._ He sat up and gave her a curious look. Teni clearly had preconceptions about humans, and it was even clearer that most of them were positive. In fact, he almost suspected that she had some kind of romanticized view of humanity. His curiosity was peaked, despite himself.

     “Have you met humans before?” He asked.

     Teni smiled, “A few, a long time ago. There was a group of Starfleet officers who helped setup the refugee camp where I grew up.”

     _Refugee camp?_ Lore must have shown his curiosity, for Teni smiled again and, in a sudden burst of confidence, took the seat across from him.

     She continued, “Most of my family escaped Bajor during the occupation and had to settle on the other side of the sector. I don’t really remember Bajor very well.”

     Lore nodded slowly. “Why are you on this station, then? Why did you come here?”

     Teni took a deep breath and seemed to be holding back a smile, “Can we do a give and take? I’ll tell you why I’m here, and you tell me?”

     Lore smirked. He had to give her credit for attempted manipulation. The potential answers—lies—ran through his mind, and he summarily dismissed them all. He did not have to provide details or anything specific enough for her to draw any kind of conclusion. He briefly acknowledged that he was being reckless and was yet again breaking his own rules, but something convinced him.

     _It feels good to talk to someone._

     “Alright.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest, “You first.”

     “Ok.” She said brightly, propping her elbows on the table. One would think he had asked her something pleasant! She began, “The refugee camp stopped getting regular aid a few years ago, and it started to get really hard there. My Grandmother wanted me to go to Bajor to be with the rest of my family, but we only had enough money for one passage. She sent me by myself and everything was going well. Really well!” She nodded vigorously, “But, um, I got robbed when our transport stopped here, and since I couldn’t afford the rest of the journey without money….” She trailed off with a kind half-hearted shrug.

     Lore’s expression was incredulous. How could she be so kind and light-hearted with such a miserable story? He had a follow-up question, to which he was sure he already knew the answer. Still, he was interested in confirmation.

     “Why are you still here? Why haven’t you continued on to Bajor?”

     Teni shrugged, and yet again produced an awkward smile, “Money. The trip is really expensive and I have to spend most of what I make on rent and food. But, I’m really close!” She insisted suddenly, her eyes bright, “It turns out that the rents aren’t going up. It was just a rumor. I should have enough money to leave in about a year.”

     Lore looked away from her, unsure of how to respond. To his mind, the only appropriate response to such a tale was outright pity, but he assumed correctly that she would not appreciate that.

     “And you?” She pressed, scooting her chair forward a bit.

     Lore forced a smile. He knew this had been a mistake. The brightness of her eyes and the upward twitch of her suppressed smile told him that she was remarkably happy to be talking to him; too happy for a mere friend.

     “I’m here because I can’t go home.” He said simply.

     Teni frowned, “Why?”

     Lore hesitated. Should he be doing this? _It doesn’t matter._ “I made a lot of mistakes a long time ago, and there are a lot of people who won’t forgive me.”

     “Oh.” Teni whispered. She drew her hands into her lap, “So, you had to leave because people were treating you badly?”

     He shook his head, “Not me. My…friends. Someone tried to hurt them to get to me, and I had to leave so that it wouldn’t happen again.”

      Teni gasped, “You left to protect your friends. That’s noble.”

     Lore smirked, “You might not think so if you knew what my mistakes were.”

     Teni fidgeted in her seat a little, but did not look very put out. “How long will you stay on the station, then?”

     He did not know how to answer that. Truth be told, Lore did not make plans when it came to his whereabouts. He had been wandering, essentially, for more than a year, and it was only what few interests he had that prompted him to go in one direction or another, in pursuit of this plasma coil or that phase inducer. The thought of that truth was suddenly very depressing to him. Why would he have plans to go anywhere? What would be the point in that? He had no purpose.

     _I miss you, Anna…._

     “Arik?” Teni asked, for he had slipped into a distracted silence.

     He looked up, “I don’t have any plans to leave the station.”

     This should have pleased Teni, and she almost smiled, yet Lore’s somber tone matched with his story made Teni think otherwise. She leaned forward, “Do you miss your home? Maybe you can go back some day.”

     “No.” He said quickly, “People will _never_ forgive me.”

     Teni opened her mouth to contradict him, in the usual fashion of someone being polite, but she stopped. She thought for a moment before she leaned back and tilted her head curiously, “You’re waiting for _everyone_ to forgive you? Screw them.”

     Lore could not help but laugh. It was a real, honest-to-goodness laugh. _Screw them…._ Now, wasn’t that a sentiment he could adopt! He was about to say as much when Teni looked over her shoulder. Min was standing next to the half closed entrance gate, a bag in her hand.

     “Teni, I really have to go now. My sister needs me to watch my niece.” Min shouldered her heavy bag and shot a very disapproving look at Lore. The look she gave Teni was only slightly less disapproving. “You’ll have to close up.”

     Lore stood up and pocketed his data-pad. He had stayed too long as it was, said too many _stupid_ things as it was, and he really should be leaving. He gave Teni a polite nod and headed toward the door. Min left just ahead of him, and they both walked in the same direction before the corridor split between the residence corridors and the docking ring. Just as he was about to head on his path, Min shuffled her feet and came to a stop. Lore looked at her.

     “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you better stop it.” Min glared up at him, but the way she clutched her bag and shifted her weight gave away an underlying fear.

     Lore frowned, “I am not _doing_ anything.”

     “I’m not stupid.” She continued, “People around here don’t give away money for nothing. You’re just trying to be nice and _win_ her so she doesn’t think she’s been bought, but I know that’s what you’re doing.”

     “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lore said between clenched teeth. He could tell her that he was uninterested in Teni, that any interest he had _like that_ had long ago been reserved for another, but what would be the point? She wouldn’t believe him, and it was none of her damn business anyway. He turned away from her.

     “You’re going to make her feel bad about humans. Don’t _do_ that!” Min cried, “It’s one of the only good prejudices she has!”

     Lore spun around, “What?”

     Min shouldered her bag more tightly, “God, you idiot! Humans gave her a place to live, humans fed her and her family for most of her life, and now—.” She shook her head, “I don’t know what she thinks now, but she is just determined to think the best of you because you’re human. She probably has some ridiculous notion that you’re going to take away from this horrible place, and when you don’t she’s going to be devastated.” With that, Min gave him a final dismissive scoff and scuttled into the dark of the residence corridor.

     Lore parted company with her just as quickly, and angrily began his short walk along the docking ring. Who was she to accuse him of anything? She did not even know him! Yet, he could not deny seeing truth in some of the things she had said. He had already acknowledged that Teni held some kind of favorable bias for humans, and Min had just given him a cursory explanation for that.

     _She thinks I’ll take her from here?_

     What nonsense! Teni just had a stupid crush, that was all. She couldn’t possible expect or even entertain something like that. Could she? Why would she?

     As Lore entered his security code and stepped through the airlock, a strange thought occurred to him. Would it be so terrible if he _did_ take her away from the station? She just wanted to go home, after all, and whatever silly feelings she might have for him would surely dissipate when she realized that she didn’t need his affection to achieve that goal. He could, after all. He had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. It might feel good to actually have a goal, a purpose, even if for a little while—.

     _No. She’ll discover what you are, who you are._

Lore stood still on the threshold of his inner airlock. His objections were right. He could not risk having her on his ship, but that did not mean the goal was unachievable.

     Lore smiled to himself, almost exhilarated with his plan as he darted into his ship and fetched a very small but very heavy box of gold-pressed latinum.

 

    

 


	6. Chapter 6

**_“If I see you again, I’ll kill you.”_ **

    Lore emerged from the airlock with the wide, thin box held tightly in one hand. It weighed nearly four kilograms and was packed so tightly with strips of latinum that there was no discernible rattle as he moved. At this hour, the promenade and the inner docking ring were almost totally vacant, and Lore passed no one as he moved swiftly back to Storlot’s. It had been only a little more than ten minute since he had left, and he was hoping that he had not missed Teni on her way out. It would be best to give her the latinum now, late at night when there were fewer people around, and when she could immediately leave with it. He would even escort her back to her quarters if he had to, just to be sure.

     As soon as he turned the corner, he saw that the gate was still half opened at Storlot’s. He tried to suppress his smile as he neared the entrance. Lore was not accustomed to giving gifts, and so he was equally unaccustomed to the exhilarating feeling that it could produce. As altruistic as many gifts are, they are never entirely selfless. Gratitude, even in absentia, is a powerful narcotic.

     He grabbed the gate, ready to shove it further aside, when he caught sight of the bolt and stopped. The weak mechanical locking mechanism was hanging from the edge of the metal gate by a single fastener, its other three having been removed in some way. He lifted the lock with his finger and saw that the underside of the bolt, which was still thrown, was badly scratched and dented on the edge, as if it had been pried out of its hole.

     Lore looked up sharply, “Teni?”

     The bar was dim, only the emergency lights and the glare of the nebula beyond casting shadows through the place. He took a cautious step inside when he heard a dull thud, followed by the crash of glass from the direction of the kitchen. He rushed toward the door, knocking over a chair as he went, and stopped before the small round window on the door.

     What he saw sent flashes of red across his vision.

     At the back of the kitchen, Teni lay sprawled over a narrow steel countertop, flailing her hands desperately at the man who held her there. Mull grabbed the fabric of her blouse and pulled viciously, but the fabric was strong, and Teni was jerked up violently before it gave way. The spastic motion caused Mull to lose his grip on Teni’s hands, and she struck him hard in the face.

     “Bitch!” Mull screamed. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it until the sick sound of breaking bone pieced the room.

     Teni screamed.

     Everything from the moment Lore’s eyes reached the window to the moment Mull broke her wrist could not have been more than two seconds. It was only another second for Lore to cross the kitchen and grab Mull by the mop of his greasy hair. He yanked him back savagely before grabbing his arm and throwing him against the wall of shelves on the right side of the room.

     Teni rolled and fell off the edge of the counter, landing in the scattered mess of broken glass and kitchen utensils. She screamed again, either from fear or pain, and tried to crawl into the tiny space under the counter. Lore resisted the urge to help her and instead focused on Mull, who was scrambling to his feet. He lunged at Lore, obviously not fathoming the strength that had just tossed him across the room. Lore grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off his feet as he slammed him again into the wall of shelves. Mull’s eyes widened, fear and confusion mixing.

     Lore could feel the pulse of blood under his hand, and knew that it would be nothing to _end_ this disgusting excuse for a person, but he was unable to bring himself to squeeze. He had no pity for him, no sense that he _deserved_ to continue living. It was something different. Lore could not see tainting himself with this man. It was a tired cliché, but…he was simply not worth it.

     Lore leaned in closely. He could hear Mull’s heart starting to sputter in arrhythmia. “You will leave this station, and you will _never_ come back. If I see you again, I’ll kill you.” It wasn’t an idle threat. Killing him now wasn’t worth it. If he chose to ignore a direct warning, it would be. “Do you understand?”

     Mull’s eyes had begun to glaze over, but he managed a sputter and nod.

     Lore dropped him to the ground. Mull scrambled to his feet, ready to dart toward the door, when Lore grabbed his arm again.

     “One more thing.” Lore said quietly. He took Mull’s right wrist in his hand and snapped it like a twig.

     “Gaahh!” Mull fumed. His knees buckled beneath him, but Lore shoved him toward the door. Mull did not even look back as she stumbled through. Lore waited and listened as Mull colliding with chairs and tables in his desperate escape. He waited several more seconds into the silence before he went to Teni.

     She was sitting on the floor, he knees pressed up against her chest as she rocked and sobbed profusely. She was shaking her head and muttering to herself.

     “I forgot to close the gate before I turned off the lights. So stupid. So stupid!” She started screaming the accusation at herself as she pounded her fists against her legs. Her broken wrist hung at a sickening angle, but Teni’s shock seemed to have put her beyond acknowledging it.

     “Teni, stop. Stop!” Lore grabbed her arms to still her, “Your wrist is broken. Stop moving.”

     “I—I forgot to lock the gate.” She said again, her words garbled behind fierce tears. Her entire face was violently flushed, and an already expanding bruise ran from her left eye and down over her cheek bone. He surveyed her quickly and could see that her fall off the counter had been worse than initially thought. She had glass shards in several places in the back of her calf, and the amount of blood already running down showed that it was serious.

     _I should have killed him. Damn._

 “You didn’t forget the door, Teni.” He said quietly, “Mull broke the lock.”

Teni began to shake with renewed intensity, and pressed her good hand over her eyes. “That bastard…that…Oh, Gods!”

     Lore lifted her chin quickly and forced her to look at him. He was trying to get her to come out of her shock, but the motion was more intimate than he realized. Teni immediately quieted.

     “We have to go.” He said suddenly. He stood and helped her to her feet, “He will be coming back.”

     “No! After that?” Teni shook her head, “He wouldn’t!”

     “People like Mull are too stupid for their own good. He’ll come back, and he won’t be alone. We have to go.”

     Teni hugged herself, “But, there’s only one route out of the promenade. We’ll run into them. We have to call security!”

     “No.” Lore said flatly. Security was out of the question. Not only did he fear exposure, but he knew that it would be a waste of time. Crimes against property were the only thing station security cared about. He took her good hand, “We’re going to transport out. Come here.”

     “But transporters don’t work in the station. Security has them restricted.”

     “Mine do.” Lore assured her. Before he could pull her close for the transport, she broke free and rushed to a narrow cabinet near the door.

     “Teni, now!” He insisted.

     “Just a second. Let me get my things!” She said as she flung open the cabinet and grabbed her little cloth purse and shabby grey cloak. She turned to join him again when her feet skittered on the floor, producing a jingling sound. She looked at her feet and saw that she had kicked over a heavy black box. The lid had broken open, and a substantial amount of latinum had spilled onto the floor.

     “Wha--?”

     “Leave it.” Lore insisted.

     Teni stepped over it as she eagerly reached for him. Just as she was about to take his hand, she stopped again. “Min! We have to get Min and her sister! They can go with us.”

     “No!” Lore cried at once. He could not believe this was happening. Everything was moving too quickly. How could he have allowed himself to get into this mess!

     “Please!” Teni cried.

     “No! There’s no time. Teni, we have minutes, maybe seconds!” He insisted. It was true and yet also a lie. They did not have time to get Min or even to contact her, but even if they had he would have refused. It was bad enough what he was doing now. He could not further risk exposure!

     Teni trembled and looked back at the floor. “Ok! Okay, but just a second!”

     “Teni!” He fumed. She moved quickly, trying to scoop the latinum back into the box, but was making virtually no progress with her broken wrist and general consuming pain. Lore clenched his fists, “What are you doing? Leave it! It doesn’t matter!”

     “For Min!” Teni cried, “I can’t just abandon her!”

     Lore glared down at her, ready to yank her up and force her to see reason, but the genuine pain in her face stopped him. _Damnit!_ He knelt down and swiftly placed all the latinum back into the box.

     “Here!” Teni opened the cupboard and indicated a small cubby at the bottom. Lore placed the box inside while Teni rushed to a nearby table and tore a piece of paper from an order pad. She wrote something quickly, trying to hold the paper down with her good wrist as she wrote. She handed it to Lore, “Put it with the box!”

     Lore turned and unfolded the paper for just a fraction of a second. It read:

 

Min,

     I’m leaving with Arik. Mull attacked me and I have no choice. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you. Arik left this for you and your sister. Use it to get home. I’ll see you there some day.

                                   BT

 

     He placed the note halfway under the box and turned. Teni was standing hunched over, her face finally going pale from the excruciating pain. He stood close to her and reached into his jacket pocket. He pressed the emergency transponder he kept there, and the kitchen disappeared into the green haze of the Borg transporter beam.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

     Teni fell almost instantly. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

     “It the broken bone. Sit here.” Lore instructed as he guided Teni up the short flight of steps to the main control area of the bridge. He placed her in the only chair. She was shaking badly now, more from the pain than fear, and the lacerations on her legs had led to a substantial amount of blood. “Stay here.” He directed.

     He took the port side corridor and took the first right, entering the ship’s lab. He moved immediately to the rear storage area, a crevice tucked between curving wall pieces, and flung open the door. The space was still filled with much of the humanoid nonsense that had been aboard when he first acquired the ship more than ten years ago. He began haphazardly pulling out items, looking for the standard issue Ferengi medical kit that he knew would be there. It was hardly as good as Starfleet issue, but it would have to do. He finally located the bulky silver box and headed for the door.

     He could not explain why, but part of him was reeling with exhilaration. It was not the attack on Mull—he no longer got joy out of hurting people—but must have been the gravity of his purpose. Teni needed his help, _his_ abilities, and it felt strangely good to be needed.

     _Focus._

     “Are you awake?” He said upon entering the bridge.

     “Yes, yes.” Teni replied, lifting her head from the console. As she did so, her ruined blouse and undergarment fell open, exposing her chest. Lore looked away.

     “Oh!” Teni grabbed at the loose sides of her top and hugged herself in humiliation. She was beginning to cry again.

     Lore retrieved the old grey cloak which Teni had dropped, and placed it over her shoulder, crossing the front tightly. He knelt in front of her, “I’m going to give you something to ease the pain. It will make you feel very drowsy soon.” He pressed a hypospray to her neck and retrieved a scanner from the kit.

     Teni’s breathing had become quick and shallow, but was beginning to level out with the effects of the sedative. She watched Lore as he ran the scanner over her wrist and examined the results. He was so concentrated and steady, not in the least bit nervous or shaken. She thought to say something, but didn’t. What could she say?

     Lore put the scanner back into the box and took out an ortho-regenerator. He looked at her seriously, waiting for her to focus. “I have to set your wrist before I can heal it. It’s going to be painful.”

     She clenched her eyes shut and nodded. Lore placed his hands on either side of her broken wrist, “Are you ready?” She nodded, and he twisted her wrist sharply with a simultaneous pull. Teni gasped and fell forward. She released a scream into his shoulder and shuddered. Lore held her until the spasm passed, but he had to focus on the treatment. He gently pushed her back into the chair and activated the ortho-regenerator. It made a dull hum as he moved it back and forth over her wrist.

     “It…It feels better.”

     He nodded. Once he was satisfied that the wrist was adequately healed, he took a pair of hemostats from the medical kit and began the meticulous—and painful—operation of removing glass shards from the back of her leg. Teni winced and turned her face every so often, but said nothing. After nearly ten minutes he had removed all of the glass and worked a dermal regenerator over the lacerations. Her leg was perfect again, save the hideous smears of blood.

     When he looked up again, it was clear that the painkillers were beginning to take a heavy hold. Teni’s eyes drooped and she occasionally caught herself from falling over, but she was brought back to reality when Lore suddenly stood up.

     “What are we going to do?” She said suddenly.

     Lore paused. Having read the note she left for Min, he only assumed that she knew. Although, perhaps not. Perhaps she was still searching for confirmation. He sighed heavily.

     “We can’t return to the station. You know that.”

     Teni’s shoulders dropped and she nodded several times. “I know. But, Min will be ok.”

     He looked away from her. Damned if this situation wasn’t the worst possible outcome!

     “I’m sorry.” Teni said suddenly, “I’m sorry I’ve put you in this situation.”

     Lore clenched his jaw and looked away again. There was apparently no end to Teni’s ability to blame herself for things. “This is not your fault. You have not _put_ me into anything.”

     She shook her head and just looked away, unbelieving.

     Lore continued to look away until the silence became even too awkward for him. When he finally looked at her again, it was clear she would not remain conscious for much longer.

     “Follow me. I’ll show you where you can sleep.” He said bruskly. He moved down the steps and toward the port side corridor, which extended smoothly away from the bridge without a door or any other kind of obstruction. The first door on the right led to the only furnished living quarters, where he had showered and changed his clothes earlier. As he entered the room, he saw his strewn articles of clothing still on the floor, and rushed to pick them up. He wasn’t embarrassed by messiness or any other such ridiculous thing; rather, he did not want her thinking that this was _his_ room. He did not want her thinking that she would be sleeping in _his_ bed.

     _Great…._

     Teni walked in behind him and looked around the room as Lore hurriedly shoved a bundle of clothes into the replicator, dematerialized them, and produced a pillow and blanket in their stead. He set the pillow and blanket on the bed and stood back. He was not even looking at her.

     “You can sleep here. The bathroom is there. The replicator will give you anything you ask for.” He waited for her to step away from the door before he moved toward it.

     “Wha—wait.” Teni said.

     Lore stopped at the door. “What?”

     “Where will we go?” She asked quietly.

     Lore considered. There was really only one destination that made sense. “We’re going to Bajor.”

     “Bajor!” She exclaimed, “But, you don’t have to do that. It’s so far….”

     Lore shrugged dismissively, “I have nowhere else I need to go. It doesn’t matter.”

     “Yes it does.” She said softly. She gave him a bright smile—as bright as one could expect from a person on painkillers—and moved to take a step toward him.

     Lore backed through the door. “It’s nothing. Go to sleep.” He moved out into the corridor and the door hissed shut behind him. He waited for several seconds to see if she would follow. When she did not, he let out a relieved breath and headed for the bridge.

     With quiet speed, Lore entered the commands to disengage the docking clamps and power up the impulse engines. It took only ten seconds for an alarm to sound, announcing that station security was hailing him. He did not bother to respond, and in less than a minute _Gesteia Nor_ was a forgotten dot behind them.

    

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**_“I am sorry I make you sad.”_ **

          The dream made so sense. Despite the imagery being rather obvious, and the purpose utterly clear, it was still absurd. She was diving into a dark pool of water, bottomless like the ocean, with not a bit of light to be seen. Despite her growing desperation for air, she continued to swim down, down, searching for something she could not see. Then, he appeared. Lore looked up at her from the depths below, his arms stretched up as if reaching for her. Though, he never seemed to be trying very hard. His expression was placid and unconcerned, not at all matching her own panicked attempts to reach him. Her lungs were bursting, threatening to explode, but still she kicked and stretched. He must have been sinking, for no matter how hard she tried she could never reach his hands. He sank faster, his face becoming just a grey blur until he vanished entirely into the dark.

     Anna twisted in her sheets and let loose a gut wrenching scream.

     “Wake up! Wake up!”

     Anna jerked back to reality and filled her lungs with long, desperate breaths. Her chest ached, and she was only just aware of the figure across the room.

     “Anna, you have to stop this!”

     She looked across the room to the narrow bed against the opposite wall. Her roommate was sitting stock upright in her bed, her head clenched angrily between her hands.

     “I’m sorry, Jaz.” Anna muttered, still trying to catch her breath. She could still see his face. Damnit, why did he always look so calm?

     Jasmine threw her blankets back angrily and moved her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood in a huff.

    “Jaz, I’m sorry. Really.” Anna continued.

    The woman ran her fingers roughly through her long black hair and shook her head, “I’m sorry, Anna, I really am. But…you’ve got to talk to the new counselor or get Dr. Crusher to give you a sleep aid or something, because I can’t _do_ this shit anymore. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

     Anna pressed her palms over her eyes as Jasmine stomped off into the bathroom. A moment later, Anna heard the dull hum of the sonic shower as it came on. She waited a few moments as she continued to catch her breath—an act that was more and more difficult these days—then finally resolved to get up. It was a quarter to six in the morning, only fifteen minutes before the alarm would gone off anyway, but she was sure Jasmine would have preferred the computer’s digital chime to the horror of a deep throated scream.

     It was not the first time it had happened, and she wondered how much longer poor Jasmine was going to hang in before she requested a new roommate. For the hundredth time in two weeks, Anna wished she still had her own quarters. She still did, technically, except her old room was now little more than a smashed up collection of deck plates and sparking wires at the front of the _Enterprise._

     Anna stood with a short groan of effort and walked toward the bathroom. The door to the shower compartment was closed and Anna decided that she wasn’t going to bother to wait her turn. She had taken a shower the night before anyway. She opened the drawer under the vanity, removed her hairbrush, and began the meticulous process of taming her flying waves into a flat, straight mane that she would then pull back into an equally flat, straight pony tail. The dream invaded her thoughts again, and as always she tried desperately to push it away. The dreams had started again after such a long period of quiet. It had been…wow. It had been nearly a year since she had had the dream, and then the battle and collision with the _Scimitar_ had happened and her injuries….

     She kept her eyes down as she worked, hardly even looking into the mirror. When she was finished, and relatively certain of her success, she looked up. She hardly recognized the sleek, flat-pressed officer that looked back at her.

     _Good._

She knew she should apologize to Jasmine again, or at least give her some assurances that she would _do something_ about the nightmares, but she wasn’t in the mood to lie today. She knew she would not do anything about the nightmares. Talking to the new ship’s counselor was out of the question, since she had no desire to divulge and be judged for it. Seeing Crusher was also not a possibility, since she had already asked before and been told that sleep aids would interfere with the genetic-organ growth treatments she was already on.

     _God, my chest hurts today…._

     Anna quickly donned her uniform and headed for the door before Jasmine emerged from the bathroom. She would be early, but that didn’t really matter. Since the _Enterprise_ had been towed into space dock more than two weeks ago, the maintenance shifts had been bizarre and overlapping. No doubt, a near full complement of the dayshift workers would already be in engineering.

     The corridors were mostly vacant as she made her way to the turbo-lift and directed it to the engineering deck. Almost instantly she felt closed it, and pressed her hands against the lift wall as she drew long, deep breaths, just the way Dr. Crusher had shown her. Every time it was the same. She would inhale deeply, almost to the point of satisfaction, when her lungs would refuse to stretch further, like a new birthday balloon fresh out of the box.

     _Well, they_ are _new…._

     She put on her calm, professional-Lt.-Hall face as the lift doors opened and she moved into engineering. Just as she had suspected, it was already in full swing.

     “Hall, you’re early.” LaForge said with some surprise, although he was clearly pleased. He tapped a pad against his hand before he extended it toward her. “I’m afraid there isn’t much today. In fact, there isn’t going to be much for a while.”

     “Really?” Hall asked. The ship was a wreck—literally.

     LaForge exhaled heavily, “Yeah. The structural repairs to the forward section are taking priority now, obviously, and dry dock control is going to have complete control of the ship’s power systems. There’s no point in scheduling much maintenance if they’re going to be constantly shutting off power or redirecting it.” He dropped his hands to his sides, “There’s still some things we can do, though, for a while.”

     Anna nodded somberly and took the pad. Few non-engineers would be able to understand the kind of frustration LaForge was experiencing at the moment. The _Enterprise_ was his baby, and he was being forced to hand over parental control to strangers; Starfleet’s best, of course, but still strangers.

     “Hey, Anna.” Ensign Blake said as he came around the warp core, a tool box in hand.

     “Morning, Blake.” Anna said quietly. Ensign Thomas Blake was one of Anna’s closest friends, but he preferred everyone to call him by his surname. He was several years out of the academy but looked painfully young. Sometimes Anna wondered, with some amusement, if he even had to shave.

     “Hey, are you feeling okay?” Blake whispered suddenly.

     Anna looked up, a frown on her face, “Of course. Why do you ask?”

     He shrugged, “I heard you were having nightmares and stuff.”

     _Come on!_ Anna clenched her jaw. How was that even possible? She had only left her quarters ten minutes ago! “I guess I should have a talk with Jasmine about spreading my business to the whole ship. What did she do, call Linch over the comm five minutes ago?”

     “Uh….” Blake frowned awkwardly, “Five minutes ago? I was talking about from a few days ago, I think. You had another bad dream this morning?”

     Anna dropped the pad LaForge had handed her on the table, “Blake, I’m really not in the mood to have the ship discussing my sleeping habits. There has to be something more interesting going on.”

     “Sorry.” Blake said, a little taken aback, “I just thought it might have something to do with your….” He waved a hand at her torso, “Your lungs.”

     Anna sighed and brushed her hand behind her ear, an old habit from her wavy hair days. She supposed she should be grateful. Everyone, including her roommate, no doubt assumed that the source of her nightmares was the accident. She scoffed to herself. Accident…. As if being pursued and nearly destroyed by a mad Reman and his warship could be termed an _accident_! They were all lucky to be alive.

     _Not everyone made it…._

     “I’m sorry, Blake. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just…a little irritated.”

     Blake nodded, “Yeah. Well, Jasmine shouldn’t be going around telling people you’re having nightmares. It’s nobody’s business.”

     Anna scoffed, “She’s just trying to establish her motive for when she eventually requests a new roommate. I can’t say I blame her.”

     He shifted his weight, but said nothing more. He would never have said so, but Blake thought he could guess what her nightmares were about, and they had nothing to do with the _Enterprise_ collision and Anna’s subsequent accident. He was embarrassed to know such a thing, but Briggs used to occupy the quarters next to Anna’s, and he had once told Blake about hearing her scream in the middle of the night. Horrible, bone-chilling screams. That had been more than a year and a half ago.

     “Well…how are you doing otherwise? Your lungs, I mean?” Blake asked quickly.

     “It’s fine, Blake. Really.” She assured him, and finally managed to produce a smile. She could not get used to the way in which everyone was treating her like glass, constantly asking how she was doing and denying her strenuous assignments. It wasn’t because Anna was proud or lacked the ability to take compassion; it was because she could not reconcile the sympathy she was getting now with the near total lack of sympathy she had received… _before._

     The pain was there suddenly, and she clenched her jaw against it. _He’s gone. Accept it._

     She looked at the pad LaForge had given her and sighed. He wanted her to remove and catalogue all of the isolinear control chips from the now totaled science lab three. While most everyone else would be busy hauling debris away from the forward sections, she would be sitting on her butt logging chip numbers!

     Blake looked over her shoulder and read the pad. He shrugged, “Doctor’s orders, right? You’re not supposed to do anything strenuous.”

     “She took me off restriction four days ago.” Anna countered, “I’m not an invalid. I would be able to do a lot more if she would let me take more medication. It really makes me feel better, but she says it will interfere with the growth treatments.”

     He nodded sympathetically, “Look on the bright side. It’ll get a lot more interesting when they start installing that experimental dive. Have you heard about that?”

     Anna did, vaguely, recall the particulars of the much lauded ‘experimental drive’, but had honestly not been giving it much thought. So much had been happening recently. The _Enterprise_ was a wreck and people were already talking about experimental engines and upgrades? The sheer speed with which everything was moving forward felt wrong somehow. So many people had died. Was it so much to ask that people just stop for a while?

     “I’ve heard about it. Phased warp fields, huh?” She managed a chuckle, “I can’t say I look forward to the days when we’ll travel _through_ asteroids instead of around them.”

     “Are you kidding? I think it’s awesome! I’m giving LaForge all kinds of subtle hints about putting me on the design team, if it ever gets off the ground, and I’m really interested in meeting the design consultant. You know who she is?”

     Anna shook her head.

     Blake leaned in, “Seven of Nine.”

     Her raised brow gave Blake all the surprise he had been looking for. Anyone who wasn’t living under a rock—a heavy rock—knew who Seven of Nine was. _Voyager_ had returned from the Delta quadrant just barely two years ago, and there had been a good amount of public controversy when Seven of Nine had applied to the expedited officer program at Starfleet academy. Her application had included several high profile recommendations, including one from Admiral Janeway herself. That had only led to more controversy when the admissions board had summarily rejected her application.

     _People never forget._

“I’m surprised.” Anna said quietly, “Starfleet didn’t trust her to become an officer, but they’ll trust her to redesign and install experimental Borg technology?”

     Blake frowned, “I know. Isn’t that bull crap? Most everyone was on her side, it was just the admissions board. There were two officers on that board who lost children to the Borg. They should have been removed.”

     Anna merely shrugged. She had given up long ago expecting people to be forgiving, even when it came to forgiving people for things that weren’t their fault. It all seemed to depend on who you were. Captain Picard had been assimilated by the Borg, and virtually no one held that against him. Seven of Nine was no different, and yet everyone was ready to vilify her. It was probably because she didn’t show enough remorse, because she didn’t crawl around screaming apologies and begging for forgiveness; because she had some Goddamn dignity.

     “Well, if you do meet her, don’t ask her about the Borg.” Anna said with a light smile, “I’ve heard she hates that.”

     Blake bid her a short goodbye and headed toward the control room. As she often did, Anna looked over the maintenance logs and mentally began tallying up what she would be doing for the rest of the day. _Gene treatment with Dr. Crusher at 0830…physical therapy in the holodeck at 1215…answer Mom’s letter, finally...dinner with Owen at 1900—._

     Her breath caught. She had almost forgotten about Owen and their planned dinner. It _had_ been the only thing on her mind the night before…before she had had another dream. It had been years since she had seen him, not since she had left the academy, but seeing him again had been a delightful surprise. She had almost forgotten that kind smile and easy humor. Owen had a way of making everyone around him feel like the center of attention at once, and her especially. She had not even hesitated to accept his first dinner offer, which he had made before the _Enterprise_ was hardly secured into dry dock.

       She felt a pit in her stomach suddenly, and that pit felt a hell of a lot like guilt.

     Guilt! She shook her head and scoffed angrily at herself, no doubt looking a little crazy to the people around her. What the hell was wrong with her? It had been a year a half—no, almost two years now! A normal person would have gotten over it by now. A normal person would have accepted that life sucks and there is no reason being miserable on purpose.

     Anna had learned some hard lessons over the past two years, and she was damned and determined to be _normal._

     She picked up her pad and reached for a kit under the table, but stopped. The work she was going to perform was so humdrum she didn’t even need a tool kit! She slammed the door closed and spun around. A pair of wide gold eyes starred down at her.

     “Ah!” Anna started and stepped back into the table. Her chest heaved painfully and she clutched at her side. B-4 stood a few feet in front of her, a bit too far into her personal space, which was a bad habit of his.

     “Good morning, Anna.” B-4 said in his typically bright voice. His eyes were wide and examining—always—like those of a curious child.

     Anna looked away from him, “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

     He cocked his head, a motion he performed with much more bird-like sharpness than Data ever had, “I did not approach you with subterfuge.”

     “I know. That’s not what I meant.” Anna sighed and continued to try to look around him, look anywhere but into those gold eyes. She had avoided Data’s eyes too…after.

     “Do you need help with your assignment, Anna?” B-4 asked, his voice still painfully bright, “Geordi says that I can help with some things.”

     Anna gathered up her data-pad and stepped around him, ready to simply walk away. Damnit! She had almost forgotten to log her assignment in the roster. She moved toward the wall panel and began logging in.

     B-4, not having gotten an answer to his question and being utterly incapable of reading hints or body language, pursued Anna and once again stepped into the bubble of her personal space. “Do you need help with your assignment, Anna?” He repeated.

     She bristled. That voice. Even with the brighter tone and hard diction, it was still _his_ voice. She turned angrily, “I’ve _asked_ you to call me Lt. Hall.”

     He blinked several times and seemed to consider her words. “Why?”

     “Because I asked you to.” Anna countered. She looked away from B-4 again, hoping against hope that he would read her meaning. He wouldn’t. Everyone knew that B-4’s ability to read human behavior and respond appropriately was rudimentary at best. He seemed incapable of understanding or responding to anything but the bluntest forms of direct speech. 

     “Why do you ask me to?” B-4 said.

     Anna took a step back from him and managed to look in his direction without actually seeing him. It was a maneuver she had perfected in the very short time he had been onboard.

     “I ask you because it’s rude to call people you don’t know well by their first names. Not unless they say you can.” Anna explained. She knew her tone was unfriendly and harsh, and she also knew that she was lying through her teeth. People she hardly knew called her Anna! She simply could not bear to hear her name in that voice. It reminded her too much….

     B-4 was still for a few long seconds, dragging out the awkwardness until Anna had to shift her weight several times. Finally, he said, “May I call you Anna?”

     _Damnit._ There were people nearby, most of who had no-doubt heard every word exchanged. What was she supposed to do? Tell him no? In addition to the rumors about her nightmares, they would be able to add the claim that Anna was a bitch who mistreated B-4.

     She sighed, “Yes, Bee. That’s fine.”

     “Thank you, Anna.” B-4 said brightly. “Do you need help with your assignment, Anna?”

     _He’s nothing if not persistent._ “No, thank you.” Anna replied, “It’s very simple. I don’t need help.”

     “Ok.” B-4 said brightly. It was a word he had learned from Geordi, and one of the few which he seemed to have taken to with alacrity. “I will ask you again when you have a different assignment.”

     Anna frowned and tried to cover it up by wiping her brow unnecessarily. “That’s not necessary.” She said quickly, “I won’t get any assignment I need help with.” Wasn’t that the truth? It was unlikely that people were going to stop treating her like an invalid until she could scale a ladder without panting and clutching her side.

     B-4 looked at her for several long seconds, and very slowly his bright expression fell into something like…hurt? No, she was imagining things.

     “You do not like me.” B-4 said suddenly.

     _What!_ “I—I didn’t say that.” Anna stammered.

     “You do not want me to call you Anna. Data and Lore called you Anna. Why do you treat me differently?”

     Anna could feel heat rising in her face. What the hell was going on? This was too invasive and far too…intuitive for B-4. Wasn’t it? She hardly knew him.

     “I said you could call me Anna.” She said quickly, her voice low. She could see that several people had glanced their way and were taking note of B-4’s depressed expression. She smiled, forcibly, and took another subtle step away. She could hardly explain to B-4 that the reason Data had continued to call her Anna was because she could never bring herself to ask him to stop. How would that have sounded?

     “Then we are friends?” B-4 asked. There was so much hope in his voice suddenly that it was almost heartbreaking. He really was like a child. A six-foot tall, one hundred kilogram child.

     “Yes. Of course, Bee.” She said quickly, nodding as she continued to move away. She just wanted to get out of there and away from him. What was he doing there anyway?

     “Ok!” B-4 beamed, proud of the use of his new favorite word. He took a step closer, making up all the ground that Anna had gained. He tilted his head, “Since we are now friends, do you forgive me?”

     Anna frowned profusely. “For what? Forgive you for what?”

     “For my physical appearance.” He said simply.

     “For…what? Bee, you’re not making any sense.” Anna shook her head. The android had made an astounding amount of progress in the month since the _Enterprise_ crew had discovered him on a desolate planet in the neutral zone, but he still often spoke in confusing generalities. It was one of the reasons that few people tried to talk to him.

     B-4 tilted his head again, “My physical appearance. I look like Lore, so I remind you of Lore, and that makes you sad. I am sorry I make you sad.”

     _Oh…my…God._ Anna tried to drag in a breath, but it wouldn’t come. She looked around and was only just a bit relieved to see that no one had heard that particular statement. The wall she had been building for nearly two years came crashing down a little more, the rubble only adding to the many other breaks that had occurred over that time. It was a badly built wall in a state of constant repair.

     “Do you forgive me?” B-4 pressed, oblivious to the shattered look on her face.

     “Yes, I have to go.” Anna muttered, the words all strung together in a mush. She clutched her pad to her chest and turned away from him. Part of her wanted to demand who he had been talking to, how he had come to such a conclusion.

     “I am sorry you are sad.” B-4 continued, “I do not want my friends be sad.”

     Anna quickly approached him again, for it was common knowledge that B-4 would simply keep talking if someone moved away, and at a louder volume too.

     “Bee, please be quiet.” Anna said. She didn’t know what else to say to him, but damnit she didn’t need this! Not today!

     B-4 lowered his eyes as if thinking intently, then said, “I made you sad after Lore left. I am sorry.”

     Anna’s eyes widened to disks. “ _Data,_ B-4. You meant to say _Data_ made me sad. You have to stop doing that.”

     “That?” B-4 seemed perplexed.

     Anna sighed and whispered, “You have to stop talking about Data’s memories in the first person. It’s…disturbing to people.”

     She had no idea how right she was. It was a bizarre characteristic that B-4 had started to exhibit only a few days after Data’s death, and each time he did it the room would go silent. She had seen in particular how it disturbed Geordi. As yet, no one could be sure how B-4 was processing the memories that Data had given him. It was touch and go, uncertain, and there were often times when B-4 appeared to know nothing about Data’s memories. Then, suddenly, he would know everything. It was enough to drive the crew mad.

     She wondered if he understood what she was saying. There was also a problem with how B-4 was assimilating euphemisms. The typical nicety for saying someone was dead was to say they were _gone_ , not they had _left_. She continued, “And you meant to say _died._ Lore didn’t leave, he _died._ ”

     B-4 stood perfectly still, staring at her for the longest time until his eyes darted away. He nodded, “Yes. Died.”

     Anna watched with some confusion as B-4 suddenly turned and walked away from her. She breathed a sigh of relief and left to carry out her duties.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**_“Why Lore?”_ **

     Beverly Crusher missed her sickbay. She missed her old office and her old chair and her old replicator with the pre-saved settings. It had been more than two weeks, and no matter how much she fiddled with the new replicator she had yet to get it to produce a decent cup of coffee. How long had it taken her to get the settings on the old replicator just right?

     _Months._

     She ordered the coffee, sipped it, and seriously considered just giving up and switching to tea, but that was no way to be. She wasn’t going to be defeated by a replicator.

     “Are you still messing with that thing?”

     Crusher turned toward the sound of a mild Australian accent and put on a facetious frown, “Until it produces a decent cup of coffee, yes.”

     Dr. Owen Warrick shrugged and set down a box of hyposprays, “You should just get coffee at the station promenade. It’s much better. The food’s better too.”

     She nodded. She had been to the promenade café several times, and it really was preferable. The space dock station—which was known very dryly as Space Dock Station 3—was essentially the main hub of the repair operations currently taking place on the _Enterprise_. The station’s main center—for compartments extended out through all of the dock ‘legs’—was located directly above the _Enterprise_ saucer section, and sported a very grand and very disturbing front row view of the horrendous damage. From the promenade café, one could see the long jagged front of the Federation flagship as it extended out from under them. It was a depressing sight, which probably explained why she didn’t go to the café very often.

     “I’m glad to see you’re settling in finally.” Dr. Warrick said as he began sorting out the hyposprays and examining them, “With Dr. Koss on extended leave, I was a little worried I would be all by myself.”

     Crusher smiled her thanks. She knew Warrick was being genuine, which was a relief. Most doctors would have been averse to a new doctor swooping in to outrank them. The station’s usual Chief Medical Officer had recently gone on an extended maternity leave, and Crusher suspected that Dr. Warrick had been looking forward to being CMO, if only for the title of it. It certainly would have been a boon for his resume; a junior doctor taking on such a position.

     “I would have been happy to the leave to you to it.” She said, “But the _Enterprise_ sick bay was on its last legs. We were damned lucky to do as well as we did before help arrived.”

     Dr. Warrick, who almost always preferred to be called Owen, nodded solemnly. He did not yet know Crusher very well, and so was unsure of how she felt talking about the _Enterprise_ and the collision with the _Scimitar_. A lot of people had died, many in the hours after the collision when medical help had been lacking, stretched near to the breaking point. But he had read the reports, thoroughly, and he was damn certain in saying that Beverly Crusher was one hell of a doctor. The proof was all over the _Enterprise_ crew.

     One crewman in particular.

     “I don’t mind in the slightest.” Owen said, his Australian accent only making him sound more relaxed and congenial, “I’ll tell you, if you promise to keep it to yourself. I was a little nervous about taking over. I don’t really think I was up to it yet.”

     “I’m sure you were.” Crusher countered, and meaning every word of it. “Besides, there isn’t really much to do here with Starfleet Medical just below us. It’s been two weeks and I haven’t done anything but standard physicals and a few minor stitches.”

     “And Anna’s treatments. Those are fascinating.” He seemed to catch himself as soon as he spoke, and his slightly pinked cheeks told Crusher that he regretted the slip. They were both doctors, but there was an understanding between doctors that they did not discuss medical cases when the patient was a close friend of one or the other. Or in this case both. It felt too much like breeching the patient-doctor confidentiality.

     Crusher smiled to reassure him and nodded, “Yes, there is that.”

     Dr. Warrick nodded and went back to the box of hyposprays. Crusher watched him for just a moment before she went back to her attempts at the replicator. He was a handsome young man with sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes. His features were sculpted in such a way as to be handsome but entirely approachable. Owen was the boy-next-door all grown up.

     “I’m submitting a paper to one of the Starfleet medical journals about Anna’s treatment.” Crusher announced lightly. “I would appreciate it if you took a look over it and gave me your opinion before I submit it.”

     Owen raised his brow, “That…wouldn’t be a problem?”

     Crusher laughed, “Anna gave me permission to share her medical condition with anyone who can _read_ , Owen. I’m sure she couldn’t mind if you just read it early. Besides, hasn’t…hasn’t she spoken to you about the accident?”

     She knew that he was seeing Lt Hall, for she had seen them together in the station promenade several times having lunch or dinner. Although, _seeing_ was perhaps too strong a term. Their interactions appeared, for all intents and purposely, to be more friendly than romantic, though Crusher suspected that was Anna’s doing more than Owen’s. The man was clearly smitten with her.

     “Not as such.” He admitted, “I suppose it bothers her to think about it. It would certainly bother me.”

     There was a long pause as Crusher continued to pester the replicator with alterations.

     “So, you knew Anna at the academy?” Crusher said off-handedly.       

     Owen looked up with a smile far too bright for such a professional man, “That’s right. She was one class level behind me, although she tested into a lot of my engineering courses. Honestly, I never thought I would see her again.”

     Crusher nodded. Hall had been an excellent student.

     “I’m glad for it too.” He continued, “Because engineering is _not_ my forte. I needed a lot of extra tutoring.”

     Crusher smiled to herself, wondering if he was really that bad at engineering or if he had simply botched a few tests in order to spend time with Anna. The latter would not have surprised her.

     “We’re having dinner tonight.” He continued, shifting his gaze at her. One might have thought that he was gauging her reaction, or that he was simply proud and boasting in the manner of younger men.

     “That’s good. She should get out.” Crusher said casually, easily covering up any opinion or concern. She did not want Owen to think that he needed her approval or anything so silly. She was Anna’s friend and doctor, not her mother. Although, she did have an opinion and it was decidedly positive. Anna needed some company, and she seemed to like Owen well enough. She had been so reserved for so long.

     Crusher cringed at the coffee and put the cup back. It was even worse than before. This was what she got for trying to meddle with replicator programming. She turned and looked at the clock on the wall panel. It was 1145, just fifteen minutes before she was supposed to me Deanna Troi anyway.    

     “I think I’m going to throw in the towel and get coffee at the promenade.” She announced, “Do you need anything?”

     Owen looked around and shrugged, “It’s dullsville. I’ll manage.”

     Like everything on Space Dock Station 3, sickbay was just off the main promenade at the end of a curved corridor. Within a matter of minutes she had emerged from the more confined functional spaces and into the _gallery,_ as many station crewman liked to call it. Crusher had to admit that the design concept for the station seemed a bit…superfluous. The promenade was a massive open space that extended to a height of three decks. A quick glance up gave her a view of the terraces above, each sporting a few officers leaning against the railings as they discussed work with colleagues or just enjoyed the view. The far wall was nothing more than a single seamless sheet of transparent aluminum, providing a view of Earth so massive and clear that it was easily disorienting.

     Crusher grabbed at her stomach for a moment to fight the sensation that she was falling. Owen had told her, like so many others, that she would get used to it. She didn’t want to get used to it.

     The promenade café was located—of course—directly against the massive window. After crossing the wide space of the gallery, one went up a few red carpeted steps and came to a large platform covered with small grey tables and chairs. A few support staff moved about, providing drinks and food from the replicator station tucked away on the right hand side. Other officers, more in a hurry, took advantage of the self-serve replicators that circled a massive pillar to the left of all the tables.

     Crusher chose a seat far from the window and was about to sit down when she saw Troi already seated much closer to the window. She sucked up her vertigo and headed toward her friend.

     Troi did not appear to even notice Crusher until her hand rested on the chair and began to pull it out. Troi looked up, slightly startled, but immediately put on a pleased smile.

     “You’re early.” Troi said, “I take it there isn’t much going on in sickbay.”

     Crusher shook her head, “Luckily. Are you alright? You seem a bit distracted.”

     Troi leaned back and set down the large data-pad she had been looking over. She shrugged, “I just have a lot of things to wrap up before the _Titan_ leaves.”

     Crusher had known Deanna Troi for more than fifteen years, and the woman had never been a very good liar to begin with. She turned her seat slightly away from the window and sat down.

     Troi frowned at Beverly’s unconvinced expression, “It’s nothing. Just some things to do with Data’s will.”

     Crusher immediately grew somber. “Oh.”

     “Yes. Data, he—he left almost everything to Lore, so I’ve been having to go through his things and figure out what to do with them.”  Troi released an exasperated sigh.

      Crusher knew that it was not the labor of it that was affecting Troi, but rather the responsibility. No doubt she was worried about Data’s things going to the proper places and in the proper manner.

     “What about B-4?” Crusher suggested, “Would it not make sense for everything to just go to him now?”

     Troi nodded, but there was something else. “I spoke to B-4 about it. Or tried. He expressed absolutely no interest in Data’s paintings or other belongings. I couldn’t get him to understand why they were special or why they should be kept.”  Troi shook her head, “With that kind of attitude, I’m afraid he might just get rid of them eventually.”

     Crusher could only nod. She didn’t know what to say about B-4 now any more than she had the day they found him. He was so unlike Data—and even Lore—that it was proving quite difficult to even view him as a person. She felt slightly guilty about that.

     Troi continued, “But that shouldn’t be a problem. I got letters this morning from the Victoria & Albert museum and the Metropolitan in New York. They both want Data’s painting, so now I’m just refereeing between them.”

     Crusher chuckled a little, “The Met….Do you remember how Data would always talk down his paintings, point out all the flaws before you even had a chance to look at them? It’s a good plan, Deanna. I think Data would be pleased.”

     Troi nodded with some relief. After all, that was the crux of the whole thing, wasn’t it? What would Data have wanted? Still, with each problem that she dealt with and filed away, the other concern at the back of her mind just seemed to expand, filling the available space. She could not get that subspace message out of her mind. Why on Earth would Data make such a strange request, and in his will no less? As the same questions repeated themselves to her, she looked at Crusher. The need to tell someone was almost palpable, but she knew she would not. She could not.

     “I’m going to give Data’s service metals to Geordi.” Troi said suddenly. “What do you think?”

     “I think that’s a good idea. What about….” Crusher hesitated, wondering if Troi had already dealt with this, “What about B-4 and Lal? I’ve heard that the Daystrom Institute—.”

     “I’ve already put a return-to-sender notice on messages from Bruce Maddox.” Troi snapped suddenly. The outburst was so quick and so unlike her that Crusher’s eyes widened. Troi immediately sighed and made an apologetic smile, waving her hand.

     “I’m sorry, Bev. I’ve had more message exchanges with that man in the last two weeks than I have with my own mother in the last two years. The moment he learned I was Data’s executor he started sending me messages asking about Data’s personal files, his diagnostic records, and especially B-4.”

      Crusher frowned instantly, “I don’t know Bruce Maddox, but Data didn’t trust him, so neither do I.”

     “Exactly. I have no intention of allowing him to get a hold of B-4 in any way.” She took a deep breath and gave Crusher a serious look, “Geordi has agreed to be responsible for him, and the Captain has approved. B-4 stays aboard the _Enterprise._ ”

     Crusher could not say she was surprised, but she was still impressed. B-4 was a child in almost every sense of the term. He was unreliable and easily confused. Geordi had essentially agreed to become a parent!

     “How has B-4 been progressing? With the memories, I mean?” Crusher asked.

     “That.” Troi mused, lifting her eyes ups for a moment, “I don’t know if the Captain told you, but in the last week or so he has begun…well…referencing Data’s memories as if they are his own.”

     Crusher raised her brow and widened her eyes.

     “I know.” Troi continued, “Geordi didn’t think he was going to be able to access Data’s memories, but I think quite the opposite has happened. Sometimes, it’s as if he can’t tell the difference. Out of nowhere, he will say something about Data’s past as if it’s _his_ past. He speaks in the first person.”

     “That’s…um….” Crusher lowered her mug back to the table.

     “Disturbing?” Troi supplied. “That’s the way Geordi describes it. B-4 does acknowledge the difference when it’s pointed out to him, though.”

     “I suppose that’s something. Look, I hate to change the subject, but I have to ask.” Crusher began, softly, “Why Lore? I just….They were not exactly friendly, even though I think they came to some kind of understanding in the end. Why would Data even put him in his will, let alone neglect to change it after he died?”

     Troi just shook her head. Crusher was doing nothing more than articulating the questions that had been plaguing her since yesterday. She wanted desperately to bring up the subspace message, if only to add a new layer to the questioning. Instead, she offered up a pathetic explanation that she had been forcing on herself.

     “I have to think that a more updated version was lost or destroyed in the collision.” Troi said.

     Crusher frowned, “But, Data updated his will literally minutes before he died, Troi. That message at the beginning—.”

     “I don’t know.” Troi said flatly. Quite frankly, she really didn’t want to think about it anymore. The only explanation that fit perfectly with everything was no explanation at all, and she refused to even give it more than a cursory thought. It was absurd.

      Crusher could see that the topic was not what Troi wanted to discuss at the moment. She was about to take the conversation in a less emotional direction, perhaps talk about her upcoming leave plans, when a tall shadow was suddenly cast over their table. Crusher and Troi looked up and were immediately shocked into some kind of awkward silence.

     Before them stood the very famous, and very recognizable, Seven of Nine. She stood with a painfully straight posture, her hands held tightly behind her back. Her platinum blonde hair was swept up into a thick French twist, made only more severe by the dark purple body suit that covered her from wrist to ankle.

     “Doctor Beverly Crusher?” Seven of Nine inquired, her alto voice chopping the air like an axe.

     “Yes?” Crusher replied cautiously, sitting up.

     Seven shot a hand forward, presenting a data-pad, “My complete medical records. I trust you will find them all in order, but if you do not you may contact my previous physician. The Doctor now serves at Starfleet medical.”

     Crusher took the pad slowly, trying to mentally catch up with what was going on. It suddenly occurred to her that she had heard something about this woman coming aboard to do some kind of experimental refit to the _Enterprise_ engines.

“Thank you.” Crusher said as she took the pad. Her tone had enough questioning in it to give Seven pause.

     “I am reporting for my physical.” Seven clarified. “As I am to be assigned to this station for the foreseeable future, it stands that you are now my physician. As per Starfleet regulations, I will have to report for an updated physical which will be added to my record.”

     Troi, who had been watching this entire exchange silently, suddenly extended her hand and smiled. “It’s good to have you aboard, Seven. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

     Seven shifted her eyes a little as if she were surprised, but eventually extended her hand and shook Troi’s in a hard, professional manner. “I have also read your service record, Counselor Troi. It is good to meet you.”

      _Oh._ When Troi had said she had ‘heard’ a lot about Seven, she had not meant from her official records. No doubt her official records were much cleaner and kinder than the mean spirited rumors she had heard and read. In spite of that Amazon mask, Troi could sense an astounding amount of unease in the woman.

     “Would you like to join us?” Troi offered, indicating the chair near the window.

     Seven frowned ever so slightly, as if she were mildly confused, “No. I must report to maintenance control.” She hesitated, “Thank you for the invitation, though.”

     Troi nodded kindly.

     Seven turned back to Crusher, “I will report for my physical at sixteen hundred hours, Doctor.” With that she spun around and headed off across the promenade. Troi continued to watch until she disappeared into the far turbo lift.

      “Well that was interesting.” Crusher mused aloud, “I suppose the _Voyager_ crew didn’t have a lot of time on their hands to teach her social niceties.”

     Troi looked at her friend and frowned. She knew Crusher wasn’t being mean, she was just being honest. Still, she just didn’t know…. “That woman is terrified.”

     Crusher balked, “What?”

     Troi nodded slowly, “I would guess that the only reason she wasn’t red in the face and covered with sweat is because of all that Borg technology controlling her vitals. She was _incredibly_ nervous, Bev.”

     “Nervous?” Crusher frowned, “About what?”

     Troi shrugged, “If everyone disliked and distrusted me on sight, I would probably be nervous most of the time too.”

     “Oh.” Crusher leaned back in her chair, feeling a little guilty. After a few silent moments, she finally screwed up the courage to look out the window. It was beautiful…for about two seconds. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

     Troi sipped at her tea, “You’ll get used to it.”

 

    

 

         


	9. Chapter 9

 

**_“She’s very lucky.”_ **

     Lore pulled back the blankets and threw a pillow at the head of the bed. Quickly, he scrunched up the sheets with his hands to give all the appearance that the bed had been slept in. Somehow, the bed looked more convincing it this rumpled, unmade state. He had spent the last six hours spreading subtle indicators of his so-called humanness all over the ship. He had done up the other living quarters at the opposite side of the ship, replicating everything from the bed to the end tables to the dressers that he filled with newly replicated clothes. He had even replicated a cup of coffee, downed it quickly, and left the dirty mug sitting on the edge of the bridge console. It seemed like something a forgetful human would do.

     After those little physical things, he had decided to focus on the more technical aspects. He disengaged and rewrote the standard security protocols that he had put in place for intruders, which would have instantly depressurized the entire ship. It had been a perfect system, but since Teni would certainly need air and atmospheric pressure regardless of intruders, he had to remove it. He also had to reallocate energy reserves to life support, a system which he typically only ran twenty percent of the time. It would now run one hundred percent of the time, which would certainly put energy restriction on his warp-field experiments, not to mention several other systems he had been working on—.

      _Not even a full day, and she’s already trouble._

     Lore stopped what he was doing and took a moment to frown and be generally bitter. He was kicking himself, as humans liked to say. He should have set a course for the nearest station and simply bought Teni a seat on a transport bound for Bajor. He still could, in fact, but a very irritating and very unwelcome sense of guilt prevented him. He had already promised to take her to Bajor, and every station within twenty light years was little better than _Gesteia Nor_. He would hardly assuage his guilt by taking her from one hell-hole only to drop her into another.

     He rolled his eyes up and shook his head. Every once in a while—a very rare while—Lore wished he was still the same way he had been all those years ago. Back then he would not have given a damn. _Back then_ he would have minded his own business and not even concerned himself with the grotesque interactivities of humanoids. But, _back then_ was nothing to long for. Who longed to be a heartless bastard?

     _You_ are _a heartless bastard._

     He stepped before the console and opened the replicator history files, ready to insert a bogus history of replicated meals, when his console made a low angry beep. The starboard warp nacelle was registering a point zero six second delay in its instrument readouts. It was such a minor variance that any normal person would have overlooked it, but Lore was not a normal person when it came to his ship. He frowned as he knelt down and pulled away the cover at the front of the console to reveal the workings inside. It took him no time to see that the problem was the data stream itself and _not_ the instrumentation.

      He was mildly pleased. This would take hours.

      Less than twenty minutes passed before he heard Teni’s door open and close. The soft padding of feet approached the bridge.

      “Um…hi.” Teni said as she stopped near the short flight of steps leading to the platform. She had changed into a long brown dress with a figured diamond pattern, a style that Lore recognized to be traditionally Bajoran.

      “Thanks for the use of the replicator.” She continued, “I’m a lot more comfortable.”

      Lore looked sharply back down at the disassembled console in front of him. It had taken him a moment to realize he had been staring at her. “My ship has substantial energy reserves. You can replicate anything you want.”

     His tone was not mean, but not quite friendly enough to be inviting. Teni stood at the threshold of the bridge, awkwardly shifting her weight and looking toward the view screen. That was when he noticed she was in her bare feet.

     “Did you have trouble replicating shoes?” He asked.

     “What? Oh!” She laughed and moved a bit closer to the stairs, “It’s not traditional for Bajorans to wear shoes in the house.”

     Lore smirked, “House?”

     “Yes. Your ship feels very homey.”

     _Homey?_ “That’s not quite the description I thought you would have.”

     “Really?” She said, suddenly more relaxed. She moved up the steps and stopped a few feet from him, “The layout is so strange. Not like a ship at all. On all the ships I’ve been on, the bridge is separated from everything else and there are usually doors to divide everything. Your bridge just kind of curves right into the corridors where you sleep. Its feels more like a…big living room in a house.”

     Lore shrugged. He was going to have to take her word for that. He had never been in a ‘house’, as the typical description was. Even his home on Omicron Theta, where he had been activated and lived with Dr. Soong, had been a converted ballistics lab. He offered a plain explanation, “This ship was originally a private Ferengi pleasure cruiser. I’ve made extensive alterations.”

     “I like it.” She assured him. Her voice was low and meaningful, as if she was trying to say far more than those three words. “Arik, I don’t know how to thank you for everything. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I…I don’t….”

     “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.” Lore said flatly as he continued to sort through the console. He was just moving his hands, though. He had ceased actually paying attention to it.

     Teni smoothed her dress behind her knees as she knelt and sat back on her haunches, becoming eye level with him. “Why did you come back to the bar last night? Did you forget something?”

     Lore could detect the tinge of hope in her voice, and he could not help but be flattered. She was hoping that he had come back _for_ her, perhaps to ask her to dinner or lunch or whatever it was that humans did when courting. As ridiculous as such a notion was to him, he still found himself trying to suppress a smile. Teni liked him, more than liked him, and it felt a little good to be liked.

     “I was returning to give you something.” He said casually, shrugging.

     Teni took a deep breath, “Oh. The…the box?”

     He nodded.

     “Why?”

     He grumbled to himself. Did she _need_ him to lay out the obvious? “So you could buy passage off the station.”

     Teni’s heart thumped two wild beats. Lore heard it clearly.

     “How is your wrist?” He asked, desperate to change the subject.

     “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Teni said, twisting it around a few times, “Perfect. Thank you.”

     He nodded and looked back at the console. He wondered if she had any engineering experience. Perhaps if he could distract her with some kind of task—.

     “You’re not human, are you?”

     Lore’s eyes shot up in a flash, “What?”

     “It’s okay.” Teni said at once, raising her hands, “You said you had run away from something. It only makes sense that you would disguise yourself.”

     He was aghast, and almost angry, “But why would you think I’m not human?”

     She lowered her eyes and fidgeted with her fingernails, “I, eh….In the bar when you attacked Mull, you lifted him off the ground. You…. Humans aren’t that strong.”

     _Shit._ He could have objected, for what he had done _was_ within the conceivable limitations of a human; just not a human of his size and build. He clenched his jaw, “Does that bother you?’

     “No.” She said quickly, “There are many species that are stronger than humans, and I can’t think of anything objectionable—. Unless, you’re Romulan. Please tell me you aren’t Romulan!”

     Lore laughed, “I’m not a Romulan.”

     “Good.”

     His humor vanished suddenly, “Listen, Teni. We need to have an agreement right now. Don’t ask me what I am. I can’t tell you.”

     Teni swallowed hard and seemed to consider. Finally, she nodded. “Ok. Maybe you’ll eventually choose to tell me.”

     “I doubt that.”

     “I’m an optimist.” She said brightly, smiling.

     _Yes, you are._ He turned his attention back to the console and was prepared to ask her about her engineering experience when he felt her hand suddenly against his cheek. He turned and was immediately met with her lips pressed lightly against his. His initial shock was melted away by the soft, slow motion of her lips as she kissed him again. He felt a forgotten exhilaration that seemed to rise up from nowhere, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to put his hand on her waist and pull her closer. If it were possible, he would have sworn he had forgotten how wonderful a simple thing like a kiss could feel.  The first time Anna had kissed him it had been so overwhelming he had wondered if something wasn’t wrong with him. The second time had been so less thrilling.

     _Anna…._

     Lore’s lips stiffened and he pulled away. Teni tried to meet his eyes as she leaned closer.

     “What’s wrong?” She whispered.

     “I shouldn’t have done that.” He said simply.

     “You didn’t do anything.” She muttered, her voice very low. She leaned back onto her haunches, and Lore could see the blood rising in her cheeks. She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. You’re not attracted to me.”

     _That’s right._ But he couldn’t say it, not like that. Even he had _some_ decency! “That’s not it. You are… _very_ beautiful, Teni, but I….” He trailed off. What the hell was he supposed to say? Assuaging hurt feelings was not exactly something he was familiar with.

     Teni gasped, “Oh! You’re married!”

     “No, I’m not married, but I….” He sighed, exasperated. What would put an end to this? “I love someone else.”

      Teni lowered her eyes to the open console and appeared to be considering something. She whispered as she said, “Where is she?”

      “I don’t know.” He replied. He decided quickly that he needed to end this, now, and the best way to do that was to just be honest and get it over with. “She’s on a starship somewhere, probably in the Alpha quadrant. I left to protect her. I can’t see her again.”

     Teni let out a bitter little laugh and wiped at her eyes, which had begun to well with tears.

     Lore grumbled.

     “So, she isn’t here and you can’t see her again, but you won’t break faith with her.” Teni said slowly, examining each word as she said it. She sighed, “She’s very lucky.”

     Lore looked away, “That’s debatable.”

     Teni regained her feet and smiled down at him, “Oh, now I _know_ she is. I—I’m going to see if I can replicate some shoes. Excuse me.”

     “Teni.” He sighed miserably. This was stacking up to be a very awkward journey. He had to eliminate this now, before it became so bad that he would have no choice but to leave her somewhere. “Stay here and I’ll…I’ll show you the database. You can find something to read.”

     Teni hesitated, but eventually swallowed hard and moved back up the stairs, “Ok.”

     Lore indicated the only chair, which faced the massive computer interface along the back wall. “You can do a basic word search. The library is quite extensive.” _That’s right. Distract her. Get it out of her mind._

     Teni nodded, her shoulders still broadcasting her embarrassment, and faced the computer console. She lifted her hand and let her fingers hover over the touch board. She moved for one set of controls, hesitated, moved onto another. Lore watched her fidget like this until she eventually sat back, allowing her hands to fall into her lap.

     “I don’t know how to use it.” She whispered.

     Lore looked at the screen. Of course. Not everyone knew how to read scrolling Borg code. “Computer, adjust displays to Bajoran characters.”

     There was a hesitant flicker as the sharp, boxy Borg code was replaced with horizontal lines of Bajoran calligraphy. Teni sat up as if a bit more relieved. She reached her hand out and touched a control which, she thought, would highlight the entry search box. The computer objected with an angry beep. She bit her lip and touched another unlabeled touch-button, which only elicited the same response.

     Lore frowned. What was she doing? He reached out and tapped the two adjoining controls that would highlight the entry window. She smiled and cleared her throat and leaned forward. “Thanks. I’ve got it.”

     Lore stepped away, back to the disassembled console behind him, when he heard another confused objection from the computer.

     “Teni, do you know how to use a basic mainframe interface?” He regretted his words and his surprised tone instantly. Teni’s face was flushed anew, and she held her hands tightly in her lap.

     “No.” She whispered.

     How was that possible? He frowned and wondered if she was lying for some strange reason. When she saw the look on his face, her expression immediately switched from embarrassed to angry.

     “I didn’t learn computers, okay!” She belted, “They didn’t have any at the refugee camp. I don’t even like to use data-pads!”

     Lore managed to suppress his wonder—for he had never met an adult without this rudimentary knowledge—and realized with some irritation that all the changes he had made to the ship’s files had been totally unnecessary. Still, using a basic interface was such an essential piece of knowledge, he found himself wondering just how long she had been fussing with the replicator before she had gotten it to do her bidding.

     “Fine. I’ll teach you. It’s simple.”

     Teni scoffed and turned back toward the screen, “Don’t waste your time. I don’t know how.”

     Lore rolled his eyes. Either she learned this or he was going to have to do everything for her, which he found unacceptable for more reasons than one. “That’s why I said _teach_.” He tapped a few controls, sending the scream back to the opening display. He nodded at the screen, “You can read this?”

     “Of course I can _read!_ ” She said angrily.

     Lore raised his brow, slightly amused. Apparently Teni was sensitive about people questioning her intelligence. “Are you going to yell at me every time I ask you a question? Do you see the file headers?”

     She sulked, “Yes.”

     He reached in front of her and held his finger on one touch-key as he tapped another. A highlighted square jumped from file header to file header with each tap.

     “This is how you highlight a category. Let go of this button and the last category highlighted will expand, then you can navigate within it.”

     Teni pressed her lips together, but nodded. This was not how she had seen him do things. “It’s looks…much slower than the way you do it.”

     Lore smirked. _That’s because I can enter direct code at two thousand keystrokes a minute._ “This will be easier for you.”

     She sighed, “You don’t have to teach me stuff to make me feel better, Arik. I’m not a pity case.”

     Now, that pissed him off. “I am not taking _pity_ on you. It would be very convenient for me if I did not have to spend the next two weeks getting your meals out of the replicator because you can’t figure out how to use it.”

     Teni sucked a sharp breath between her teeth and looked back at the screen. Her face had quickly grown red all the way to her ears, and the glare from the console did nothing to hide the glitter of tears rising in her eyes.

     _Damnit._ Lore looked away, once more metaphorically kicking himself. He was hardly an expert on humanoid relations but even he should have known that one did not go from kissing a woman to insulting to her in less than two minutes, but that pity comment had truly rubbed him the wrong way, mostly because it was true. He did pity her, but he didn’t want her to know that!

     “I’m sorry, Teni.” He said quickly, “I didn’t mean that.”

     “Yes, you did. You think I’m stupid.” She muttered.

     Lore sighed and closed his eyes. How did he get himself into this? Still, he could see that she was genuinely upset, and part of him couldn’t help but think that it was his fault; a _tiny_ part of him.

     “If I thought you were stupid I would not bother to try teaching you.” He said simply, “Highlight a category and open it. Any one will do.”

     Teni shifted as if she would object again, but sighed as she held down the same touch-key he had and tapped the cursor a few times. She let it rest on the category for communications and let go. The communications interfaced expanded and filled the screen.

     “Communications?” Teni said, her demeanor somewhat brightened, “Can I send a message?”

     “No. It might be traced.”

     “Oh.” She said, a little disappointed. “I guess I can send a message to my grandmother when we stop somewhere, or I can wait until I get to Bajor.”

     He nodded.

     “Aren’t you worried about these messages being ‘traced’?” Teni asked. She was leaning forward and pointing at the screen to the only two lines of text in the communications box.

     Lore glanced at them and went utterly still. The first message was, as he had expected, from that stupid trader Shoek. The second was labeled, very clearly, Lt. Commander Deanna Troi, _USS Titan._

     Teni immediately saw the strange look on his face and began to rise out of her seat. “Arik? Are you ok?”

     Lore gripped the back of the chair. Hard. “Can you leave me alone for a while, Teni?”

     She only nodded, too frightened by his intense expression to question anything. She floated down the steps and disappeared into the room that had tacitly become hers.

     Lore lowered himself into the chair and stared at the screen.

    

     

    

    

    


	10. Chapter 10

 

**_“You faked your death!”_ **

     Goddamned Data! He should have known that he couldn’t trust that duty-bound, Starfleet catering fool to keep a secret! Data’s superiors, or more than likely LaForge, had probably discovered discrepancies in the surface scans conducted at Ohniaka III, and Data had had no choice but to come clean with the whole thing. Or, perhaps Troi had finally managed to wheedle the information out of him, since her empathic abilities would no doubt have told her that Data was hiding something. Whatever the reason for it, this was inexcusable and unforgivable!

     Lore continued to look at the message that he had still not opened and which he had already scanned and rescanned with every conceivable safety measure. While he was certain that Data had sold him out, he still needed to be sure. There was always the off chance that the message was a fake, that it had not come from Troi at all, and if that were the case he needed to be cautious before opening it. He even went so far as to download the unopened and firewalled file into a data pad before completely eliminating any trace of it from his ship’s computer. If it contained anything harmful, he could tolerate losing a data-pad.

     Each time he reached to open the file, he hesitated. What would it say, and why was it from Troi? Surely Data could have sent a message himself, informing him that the secret was out and he had better watch his back now.

     _Thanks, Data._

With one last moment of hesitation, Lore opened the file and read:

 

To: Smith, Arik.

     Syndicate Comm. acct.# 65287B

 

From: Troi, Deanna. Lt. Commander, _USS Titan_.

     Earth Dry Dock Station 3, Port.

 

Message:

     No doubt you will be surprised to receive this message, but I must insist that you not ignore it. You must return to the _Enterprise_ at once. I can only tell you that your presence is required for reasons that cannot be discussed over subspace. Rest assured that the reasons are pressing enough that Data chose to break his promise to you and reveal that you are still alive. Understand that knowledge of your existence is limited to Data and me. If you choose to ignore this message, that condition will not change. However, if you choose to return you will not be able to do so in secrecy. Find me _immediately_ upon your return so that I can explain the situation. Talk to no one else.

     I cannot be sure why you chose this path, but I have my suspicions. Your intent was honorable, but I believe it was in error. I hope you will choose to correct it.

 

\--Troi, Diana. Lt. Comm. _USS Titan_

     _What the hell?_

Lore sat still, starring at the data-pad that he cradled in both hands. There were so many questions floating in his mind that he was not certain where to place them in priority. For what possible reason could they want him to return? Why keep it a secret? Why was Troi contacting him instead of Data? Why would she tell him to find her when she was clearly no longer assigned to the _Enterprise?_ He read the message again and again, analyzing it for possible codes or insinuations, but there was nothing.

     “Computer, verify communiqué signature.”

     _“Starfleet command signature, security level two, verified in excess of sixteen million characters. No flaws found.”_

There it was. The signature was authentic. It _was_ possible to forge a Starfleet command signature, but such a task was likely beyond the abilities of anyone who would be looking for him. He sat back in the chair and simply stared forward. What was he going to do? It had been nearly two years and he had just— _just—_ begun to get over the ever present desire to change his mind and go back.

     _Liar. It’s been getting worse._

     Lore spun around in the chair and tapped the controls, bringing the ship to an all stop. He needed to think. He needed to figure out his next move. Part of him had almost been hoping that the message was a fake, that it had been from someone trying to lure him into a trap. Such a situation would have taken away the door that had just been opened up to him, and he knew it was a door through which he should not step. He had left for a reason. Those reasons still existed. He could only imagine how knowing Anna and being her friend had damaged her. How many friends had she lost? How many snide comments and snubs had she bourn? Or perhaps worse, how had her career been damaged?

     No. He could not go back. If her life wasn’t ruined now, his return would guarantee it.

     _Although, Troi contacted me for a reason…._

     Lore leapt out of the chair and began to pace across the width of the platform, the data-pad gripped too firmly in his hand. Perhaps Data had been damaged and they couldn’t figure out how to repair him. That was a likely reason for contacting him, but if so why would they not simply say as much? Other possibilities went through his mind, but none even warranted a cohesive question, except….Was it Anna? Had something happened to her? Lore’s grip on the data-pad became too much, and the thing snapped between his fingers with a pathetic little spark.

     “Shit.” He muttered, letting the pieces fall to the deck.

     “Arik?” Came a cautious voice. Teni was standing just around the corner as she peered into the bridge.

     Lore looked down at the snapped data-pad and frowned, “It’s fine, Teni. I didn’t mean for you stay in your room all this time.”

     She took another step into the room, “Is everything okay? Did you get bad news?”

     “Not exactly.” He muttered

     “But you look upset.” She continued, “And, we’ve stopped moving.”

     “I received a message from an old…colleague.” _Yes, that works._ “She wants me to return.”

     “Oh.” Teni looked around the room nervously, “Is that a problem?”

     “Yes.” He said flatly as he continued his pacing. He kept it up for so long without looking at her, that Teni shuffled back as if to return to her room. She was stopped only when he continued talking.

     “Do you remember why I left? I told you.”

     Teni nodded, “Oh. You mean return _home_. Has something changed to make that okay?”

     “No.” He replied, “The reasons I left are not _changeable_. She only told me that it’s important that I come back. She gave no details.”

     Teni cautiously approached the stairs, still looking nervous for some reason, and took a seat on the middle step. “Couldn’t you sneak back? You know, just to check? If nothing has changed you could always leave again.”

     _If I see Anna, there’s no turning back._ “No. You know that I left but you don’t know _how_ I left. If anyone sees me, there’s no disappearing again. At least, not without a lot of problems.”

     She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped in a defeated kind of way, “I don’t understand, Arik. I feel like I’m trying to talk about a book I haven’t read.”

     “I faked my death.” He said with a dismissive wave as he continued to pace the platform. When she didn’t say anything he finally looked at her. She was stunned.

     “You _did_ that?”

     He stopped, “It was the only way. People would forget about me if they thought I was dead. They wouldn’t look for me or try to change my mind.”

     “You mean _she_ would forget about you.” Teni said. Her eyes were still wide, and she was suddenly shaking her head in stern disapproval, “Did she know? Um…?”

     “Anna. Of course not. Only Da—my brother knew. He helped me arrange it.” Lore cringed and looked away. He knew what was happened and he hated himself for it. With every word he spoke he was he subconsciously breaking down his own will, drawing ever closer to telling Teni everything and thus creating one more reason for him to give up the charade and go back. It felt inevitable. _That’s my selfishness. Inevitable._

     “So, you….” Teni sighed heavily, “Oh, Arik! How could you?”

     Lore frowned at her obvious disapproval. “How could I? You have no idea, Teni. _No idea._ ”

     “You faked your death!” She countered, “Argh! If this woman, Anna, loved you even half as much as you clearly love her, than you have done something really cruel! You abandoned her.”

     “What!” He belted suddenly. Abandoned? Lore could feel his ire rising with each disapproving shake of her head, “Who are you to judge me? _Staying_ would have been cruel. Her co-workers and even strangers were already mistreating her because of me. I was ruining her life.”

     “If she stayed with you, than clearly she had decided she didn’t care about that. Who were you to make the decision for her?”

     Lore could not believe his ears. Where was the timid thing that had snuck onto the bridge moments ago? Why was she being so damn adamant about this? “Anna was too kind for her own good!”

     Teni bolted up from her seat, “You sound just like my father! ‘I have to leave, Les. Everyone hates me. You and the girls will be better off.’ Don’t give me that crap!”

     Lore balked, “Who is Les?”

     “My Mother!” Teni shouted, throwing her hands up in the air, “My father collaborated with the Cardassian occupation for a time. He did it for me and my sister, so we could eat! But when we escaped and got to the refugee camp the others found out and started shunning my family over it. My father took off. I barely remember it, but I do remember all that ‘it’s for your own good’ and ‘you’ll be better off without me’ _shit!_ ”

     Lore clenched his jaw and wasn’t sure what to say. Ever defiant, though, he crossed his arms and said, “Were you better off after he left? Did the ostracism stop?”

     Teni smiled almost triumphantly, “No. My mother killed herself in less than a year because she couldn’t live without him, and my grandmother raised us under her maiden name so that people wouldn’t know who we were.”

     _Oh._ Lore felt an unaccountable pressure in his chest. Anna would never…never….

     Teni suddenly covered her face with her hands and gave it a few vigorous rubs, “I’m sorry, Arik. I have no right to yell at you about your business. It’s not my place to judge you.”

     Lore almost scoffed, but settled for a wry smile, “Don’t apologize for opinions, Teni. I don’t.”

     “What are you going to do?” She asked. A little bit of her nervousness had returned.

     He dropped his shoulder and closed his eyes, “I want to go back, but it’s selfish. I would be doing it just for me.”

     “Oh, I don’t think so.” She said with a smile, “I don’t know Anna or anything about your relationship, but if I were her I would want you to come back.”

     Lore laughed silently, “You are a professional flatterer, Teni.”

     She shrugged, “I know you’ll make the right decision. And don’t worry about me. I may look naïve, but I can make it to Bajor on my own.”

     Lore snorted a laugh, “Teni, you wouldn’t make it five light years, and I say that with all due respect.”

     She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t look too angry, “So, what then—.”

     “I’m not going to _abandon_ you somewhere.” He smirked.

     Teni grumbled, “Are you going to hold that against me?”

     Lore picked up the broken data-pad pieces and tossed them into the chair, “Absolutely.”

     “Really, Arik. What are you going to do?”

     He rested his hands on the console and closed his eyes for a few moments. It had been nearly two years and yet he was certain that this moment had been a long time in coming. He simply had no will power when it came to denying himself something he wanted. He was a selfish bastard and he always would be. Crusher had been right.

     “I’m going home.”

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

**_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_ **

     “I require access to the port nacelle control interface. Please open it now.”

     Anna could swear that the tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. The _please_ was technically polite, but any softening effect it had was ruined by the _now_ at the end.

     “Sure.” Anna muttered through clenched teeth as she entered her access code on the control table, opening the desired system.

     Seven of Nine practically shoved her way into position over the console, causing Anna to move swiftly out of the way. She gave the woman an angry glare, though any menace it might have had was ruined by the fact that she had to look up at her a good three inches. For the past four hours, Seven of Nine had been gliding back and forth across main engineering as if she owned the place, demanding access to systems and handing down orders for diagnostics. After years of being in Starfleet, Anna was accustomed to the behavior of subcontractors, civilians who had been engaged to do some task aboard a Starship. They had the nasty tendency of taking control and showing very little regard for authority. It was as if they thought their civilian status was a rank in itself, and that their rank was sure as hell higher than Lt. Commander. Some even acted as if it was higher than Captain.

     It was usually tolerated, but Seven of Nine was not a typical subcontractor. This was her first collaboration with the Starfleet shipyards, and everyone knew she had served aboard _Voyager_ for years. One would think her skill at personal relations would have improved.

     Anna grumbled to herself. _Maybe this_ is _improved._

“Ensign Blake.” Seven called, cutting the air with that full alto voice of hers, “Have you completed the integrity analysis of nacelle strut number four?”

     Blake, who had been frantically working over a console in the control room for an hour, looked up nervously, “Just about.”

     Seven folded her hands behind her back, “That is unacceptable. Your analysis is required for us to move forward with the diagnostic.”

     “I’ve only got two hands.” Blake muttered under his breath.

     “Your number of hands is irrelevant.” Seven replied.

     Before she could help herself, Anna laughed. There was nothing like having someone around with super hearing, although she doubted Seven’s hearing was as good as Lore’s had been. Still, she wouldn’t be whispering to people any time soon.

     Seven looked up, “Is something amusing, Lieutenant?”

     Anna’s expression fell before she realized that Seven wasn’t being terse or combative. She seemed sincerely curious. Anna shrugged, “You heard him even though he was whispering.”

     Seven raised a curious brow, but the sudden tightness in her lips indicated a negative thought, “The lower range of my hearing is nearly two hundred percent greater than that of an average human. I hear…a lot of whispering.”

     Anna stiffened suddenly at the sensation of _déjà vu._ She need not imagine what _whispers_ Seven of Nine had heard. If it wasn’t her Borg nature, than it was her physique. If it wasn’t her physique, it was people complaining about her unfriendly demeanor. Ice Queen was a term becoming very popular with the engineering crew.

     Anna merely nodded, not knowing what to say. She did not engage in ship gossip herself, not unless it was just friendly banter or the subject didn’t really hurt anyone, but Seven no doubt knew that she knew.

     “You should have your hearing reduced.” Blake chimed in, his eyes still squinted over the screen, “I bet Dr. Crusher could do it. You know, just make your hearing average.”

     Anna closed her eyes and shook her head. _Blake, Blake, Blake…._

     “I have no wish to alter my physiology for superfluous reasons.” Seven replied quickly, her tone somewhat biting.

     Blake chewed at the inside of his cheek and frowned, “Sorry. I mean…that’s what Commander Data used to do, and I think Lore eventually started—.” Blake cut himself off just as his eyes darted to Anna. She had noticeably looked away from him the moment he said Lore’s name.

     Blake turned silently back to his work, too embarrassed to offer an apology.

     Seven of Nine turned to Anna, “You will accompany me to the port nacelle control room for the remainder of the diagnostic.” It was not a question.

     Anna frowned, “I do have other duties to attend to here. I’m sure you could wait for Commander LaForge to—.”

     “I was told that you would be my liaison for the remainder of this setup.” Seven said matter-of-factly, “Did Commander Millet not inform you of this?”

     It took most of what Anna had not to slam her fist down on the table. Instead, she sucked in a slow, deep breath and stepped away from the console, “Would you excuse me for a minute?”

     Without bothering to wait for Seven’s reply, Anna headed into the control room and through the narrow door at the back. The tool calibration room, which often served as an office of sorts for the engineering staff, was packed full of tool kits and boxes of hyperspanners awaiting calibration. Lt. Commander Millet sat at the desk in the back corner, attending to tool logs and the other irritating clerical necessities that often fell to the assistant chief engineer. Millet had been assigned to the _Enterprise_ about seven months ago, and had struck Anna from the first as a dismissive jerk. He was in his later forties, heavily tanned, and had a head of thick black hair that he wore just short enough to skirt regulations. Oddly enough, he seemed to be kind of popular with the staff. She just didn’t get it.

     “Commander, I need to talk to you about Seven of Nine.” Anna began.

     He looked up briefly, “What, is she busting your chops?”

     “No, there’s nothing wrong with her.” Anna lied. She saw no reason to complain about personality quirks, “I mean, did you tell her that I was her liaison for the new propulsion install?”

     Millet lowered his data-pad with a sigh, as if Anna was really bothering him, “Yes, I did. Is that a problem?”

     Anna gritted her teeth, “No. I just would have appreciated being informed. I have other duties I could have passed off.”

     Millet tented his fingers and gave her what could only be called a patronizing smile. “I’m sorry, Hall. I didn’t expect you to have a problem with it.”

    “Well, I…I don’t have a _problem_ with it.” Anna said. Was he not listening? She just wanted a heads up.

    Millet leaned back in his chair, “From what I’ve heard, you have a particular knack for dealing with difficult personalities. I just thought I should play to your strengths.”

     _What?_ Anna scrunched up her brow in confusion. “Why would you think that—.”

     “I’m actually surprised you didn’t volunteer on the spot to look after her.” He cut in, “I’ve also heard that you _prefer_ working with trouble cases. That you have a tendency toward it, in fact.”

     Anna was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about when realization struck. That arrogant, knowing look on his face spoke volumes, and he clearly intended for her to read all of it. Her breath seized in her chest and she sincerely hoped that her face was not turning red. The man’s snide, disapproving expression was so disgustingly obvious that she had the sudden urge to smack him.

     “Sir, I do not have a _tendency_ toward anything—.”

     “Are you rejecting the assignment, Lieutenant?” He said suddenly. His tone was so challenging that the position of his hands on his hips was utterly unnecessary, and only angered Anna further.

     “Of course not.” She said slowly.

     “Good.” He snapped, “Just don’t go giving her the keys to the ship, Hall. We know you have a _tendency_ toward that as well.” 

     “Sir?” She pressed. She knew what he was talking about, what he was alluding too, but she wanted the bastard to say it outright.

     He was no longer looking at her, “Just in case, I want you to change your security access code every twenty-four hours for the duration of this assignment.”

     Anna bit back a nasty response. Lore had known her security access code for most of his time aboard the _Enterprise._ If he hadn’t known that code, he would not have been able to eject the warp core and save all of their lives. She doubted, somehow, that such a fact would have any effect on Millet.

     “Yes, Sir.” She said flatly, turning toward the door.

     “I haven’t dismissed you yet.” He snapped.

     Anna turned around. None of the ranking engineers used dismissal protocol. Not even Commander LaForge. She stiffened, having to bite the side of her tongue until it hurt.

     Millet waited a second, “Before you go, Hall, I have a little request to make. Keep B-4, or whatever they’re calling it, out of engineering. I don’t care how buddy-buddy the two of you are. It doesn’t belong down here getting in the way.”

     She could feel the pressure growing at the back of her eyes, but she resisted. Damned if anger hadn’t always made her cry! Even when she was a kid. And she knew exactly what the bastard was insinuating with B-4…. She swallowed hard, “Yes, Sir.”

     “You’re dismissed.” He said with a shrug and turned his eyes back down to his work.

     Anna walked slowly across the control room and back into the main bay. She wanted to break something. She wanted to go to the holodeck, set the combat program to easy, and the beat the hell out of some fictitious monster.

     “I’m ready. Let’s go.” Anna muttered to Seven. She stopped at the control table just long enough to grab a tool kit and a data-pad.

     “What is wrong?” Seven asked suddenly.

     Anna looked up, “Nothing. Let’s go.”

     Seven’s placid expression was broken by the curious rise of her brow. “Your skin is flushed and your rate of breathing has increased considerably. Are you distressed?”

     _God Damnit!_ Anna clenched her fists at her sides for just a moment. “I…I have medical problems at the moment. That’s why I’m breathing quickly. Can we just go to nacelle control and get this diagnostic started?”

     Seven nodded her agreement just as she moved her eyes to the left past Anna’s head. Her expression became instantly curious. “Hello.”

     Anna turned around and—what else?—there stood B-4, less two feet behind her.

     “Bee!” Anna shouted as she took a few steps back. When was she going to get used to this? He had the damnedest habit of showing up everywhere, and if Anna were not mistaken she was beginning to think that he _showed up_ around her far more than anyone else. “What are you doing down here?”

     B-4 smiled lightly, in his usual manner, “Troi had to go to the _Titan_ , so she could not go with me to the holodeck today.”

     Anna gritted her teeth, “Yes, but what are you doing down here?”

     Seven stepped forward suddenly, “Perhaps we can use his assistance. B-4, are you familiar with nacelle support strut design?”

     B-4’s eyes widened to childish disks, and they focused unabashedly on Seven’s ocular implant. “You were a Borg.”

     A tiny muscle in Seven’s jaw twitched, “Yes.” She replied, “It is irrelevant. I assume your computations abilities will make you an asset in our diagnostic. Please accompany us to—.”

     “Eh….” Anna cut in quickly, “B-4 doesn’t work in engineering. Bee, maybe you should go find Geordi. He’s probably on the station.”

     Seven, clearly missing the stressed note in Anna’s voice, merely frowned in disapproval, “It is a poor allocation of resources not to utilize skilled crewman in appropriate areas. His skills would clearly make him an asset in engineering.”

     Anna wanted to scream. She was beginning to feel like a referee, or perhaps a babysitter, standing between two insolent children. Of course, both children were bigger than her, stronger than her, and practically impossible to reason with. She gave Seven the most obviously meaningful look that she could and said, “B-4’s skills aren’t…the same as Data’s. If you’ve read Commander Data’s personnel file and you’re expecting something similar, I think—.”

     “Nacelle struts were covered in detail in my second year of warp structural theory at the Academy. I have the text fully memorized.” B-4 said.

     Anna shivered and gave him a practically outraged look. He had done it again. And, had she imagined that his voice was slightly different when he spoke? A little more fluid? A little more…nuanced? No.

     Seven was clearly confused and directed it at Anna, “Lieutenant?”

     _I don’t need this today._ She shook her head and answered by addressing B-4, “Bee, _please_ stop doing that. You know the difference between your memories and Data’s. Use the correct pronouns when you’re applying them.”

     B-4 smiled, and he looked a tad bit bashful, “I am sorry, Anna. It is…difficult sometimes.” He looked at Seven, “Data attended Starfleet Academy, and I know everything he knew about nacelle struts.”

     “I see.” Seven replied. It was the first time Anna had seen anything throw the woman’s professional exterior. She looked B-4 up and down as she clasped her hands once more behind her back, “It is good to meet you, B-4. I am sorry I was unable to meet Commander Data. His reputation preceded him.”

      B-4 expression brightened to something almost embarrassing. Even after such a short time, Anna had learned that any nicety or compliment struck B-4 particularly hard. “It is good to meet you too!” B-4 proclaimed.

      Seven accepted the exuberant response with a bemused nod and retrieved her pad from the table, “Than you will assist us?”

     “Um…I’m afraid he can’t.” Anna said quietly. She turned back to B-4. “If you go back to your quarters, I’ll tell Troi and Geordi where you are. Okay?”

     B-4’s expression fell to something near pitiful, “I…I do not like being alone.”

     Anna felt her stomach retract into her throat. _Damnit, Bee._ What had Noonien Soong been thinking by making an android so pitifully childish? It was not only unfair to him but to anyone around him! She put a reassuring hand on B-4’s arm and smiled.

     “It’s okay, Bee. Just for a little while. I’m sure Counselor Troi will be done with whatever she’s doing very soon.”

     B-4 looked as if he was considering, and his expression did lighten a bit. Behind them, Anna heard the tool room door open and close. Commander Millet emerged into the bay and immediately darted his eyes at B-4. His eyes went from B-4’s face and down to where Anna still had a reassuring hand on his arm. The man’s face contorted into a brief, though fierce, expression of disgust. So intense was that look of distain that Anna almost felt herself grow ill under it. She dropped her hand away from B-4’s arm.

     “Go to your quarters, Bee. You don’t belong down here.” Anna muttered. She took her kit and data pad and headed toward the junction room. She gave Seven only the most cursory of looks to indicate that they were leaving now, and she could not look at B-4 as they left. Trying to focus her thoughts on their upcoming work was nearly futile as the sting as Millet’s insult only seemed to strike over and over again. That look…. The man had looked at her as if she were sick, as if there was something _wrong_ with her.

     _Maybe there is…._

     “Lietenant Hall.” Seven said as they reached the nacelle control room several minute later, “May I ask you a question?”

     “Yes.”

     “Is your social position among your colleagues compromised? Is that why you have been assigned to me?”

     For a moment Anna was too stunned to even look at the woman. How tactless could someone be! She sighed heavily and pressed a soothing hand to the ache in her ribcage.

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anna snapped. “Let’s just do this.”

     Seven of Nine continued to watch Anna for a few moments until, Anna guessed, she decided that the topic was no longer worth pursuing. They continued to work for several minutes before Seven shifted her eyes several times and appeared to grow nervous. It was a strange thing to see, especially on someone whom Anna had only seen in cold personal control.

     “What?” Anna asked finally.

     “I would like to thank you for not rejecting your assignment.” Seven said.

     Anna frowned, “Why would I do that?”

     “For the same reason this assignment had already been rejected by five other officers.” Seven’s voice was cold and bland, and it was clear she was doing it on purpose, to hold something back.

     Anna looked at her in slack jawed shock, “What? Five people rejected…?” She closed her eyes. Why was she so surprised? “Don’t mention it.”

     Seven only nodded and they both returned to their work.

 

***

 

     _What. An. Asshole._

     Owen Warrick grumbled to himself and gave the man in front of him an all too obvious look of disapproval. The guy had been pretty congenial, laid back, just as anyone would expect from an engineer in dry dock. But, the moment he had said Anna’s name, it was like someone had shoved a rotten lemon into the guy’s mouth. He gave Owen an appraising look.

     “What are you looking for _her_ for?” Millet scoffed.

     _Her for?_ Who taught this guy grammar? “Does it matter? The ship’s computer is still undergoing some repairs and the personnel locator isn’t working. Could you just tell me where she’s assigned right now?”

     Millet shrugged in a kind of it’s-you-funeral manner, “Port nacelle control. Be careful, though. The Ice Queen is keeping her company.”

     Owen frowned again. He never frowned, but this guy was getting on his nerves. “Ice Queen?”

     “Yeah.” Millet said with a laugh, “The _Borg._ Seven of Nine.”

     “Oh!” Owen said loudly, laughing sarcastically. “Seven of Nine! I’m sorry, I didn’t know who you were talking about, since Ice Queen isn’t her name.”

     Millet rolled his eyes, “Whatever, Doc. They’re in port nacelle control. Be my guest. You’re barking up the wrong tree, though.”

     Owen Warrick was not a confrontational person. In fact, his desire to avoid conflict was probably one of the few things he would like to change about himself, but this guy was pushing all of his buttons. Owen did not appreciate sarcasm.

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. He was sure to make his voice light enough to encourage Millet to keep talking.

     Millet laughed. It was a sharp bark of a laugh that was intended to show distain and surprise all in one. “You don’t know? Where have you been?”

     With that, Millet continued on into the bay with the box of hyperspanners he was carrying. He disappeared into the aft junction room.

     “Prick.”

     It was something Owen was about to mutter himself, but it hadn’t come from him. He looked to the young Ensign sitting at the forward console. The man had been there the entire time, apparently slaving over some kind of work. Owen just caught eye contact with him when the man cringed and shrugged his shoulders.

     “Sorry.” Blake said sheepishly.

     “Don’t be. I was thinking much the same.” Owen sighed, “What’s that guy’s problem?”

     “He doesn’t like Lt. Hall.” Blake said flatly, like it was something that didn’t even warrant analysis.

     “Why not?” Owen asked, outraged. How could anyone not like Anna? Anna was funny and bright and perhaps the sweetest woman he had ever known.

     Blake looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was nearby. There was not. “I guess he disapproves of her relationship with Lore. He’s always making snide little references to it when there aren’t a lot of people around.”

     It took Owen a moment to wrap his mind around that. It was such a simple, almost innocent little statement, and yet the kind of plain distaste he had seen in Millet’s eyes spoke to something much more intense, much more…bigoted. He supposed he could understand, in a way. It was not as if he approved of it either, but it was over. It was almost two years in the past, and Lore was dead. She had made a mistake, and he was sure it had been a mistake that stemmed from her kind nature. Even at the Academy, Anna had always wanted to befriend the misfits and the people who clearly needed a friend. That was just her way. So, she had taken it too far in Lore’s case. That was all, he was sure. It wasn’t as if she had _loved_ Lore or anything crazy like that.

     He laughed at the very idea, certain. “Well, that’s his problem, I guess.”

     Blake snorted, “He’s making it _her_ problem.”

     _Oh?_ That little flutter in his stomach, telling him to avoid confrontation, was there again, “How’s that?”

     “He assigned her to work with Seven of Nine on purpose. Probably because _he_ thinks it’s a horrible assignment.” Blake smiled, “Jokes on him, though. Anna won’t mind working with her. She’s not a nasty bigot like him.”

     The words were out before Blake could stop himself, and he immediately looked worried. He didn’t know Owen, and his eyes immediately went to the Lt. Commander insignia on his blue collar. Owen smiled back and shrugged his shoulders.

     “Don’t worry about it, Ensign….”

     “Blake.”

     “Blake. There’s nothing wrong with speaking the truth.”

     Blake’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he turned back to his console, “I’d better get this done. I don’t think Seven is an ‘ice queen’, or whatever, but she sure is demanding.”

     Owen nodded and made his way back out into the bay and toward the main corridor. Anna was clearly going to be occupied for a while, so lunch was probably not possible. Still, he had no doubt—no doubt at all—that he would be back to ask her to dinner.

     He wasn’t going to give up someone like Anna over one little mistake.

    

    

    

    

    

 

    

    


	12. Chapter 12

 

**_“My name is not Arik.”_ **

     Lore rolled his eyes at the Risan woman who gave him a long, seductive smile as she stepped out of the pool and retrieved a towel from the nearby rack. Was there not a square acre of land on Risa that did have a pool and deck chairs? Lore was beginning to think there was not, which was why he was waiting patiently next to a glistening salt-water pool and trying not to look outrageously over-dressed and out of place. For her part, the woman did not appear to find his dismissive eye rolling insulting in the least. She laughed, as if accustomed to such things, and sauntered off in the direction of the main resort.

     _Hurry up, Teni._

     Lore darted his head in the direction of a high pitched squeal nearby. A woman went head first into the pool, clearly having been pushed by a portly Bolian man in nothing but swim trunks. She surfaced, sputtered, and immediately started laughing with delight.

     _I’m not forgiving you for this._ He was about to rise from his seat and go find her, for he had had quite enough of this ridiculous place, when he heard the distinct click of her excited heels on the patio stones. Teni emerged from the resort building, a data-pad clutched to her chest, and her face flushed with delight.

     “I sent a whole bunch of messages!” She declared. “My grandmother, my cousins, I even got to talk to my cousin Rolt because I caught him when he was at home! I told everyone I’m coming home!”

     “Good.” He said flatly, “If they’re expecting you it will raise an alarm if you don’t show up.”

     She rolled her eyes at him, “I don’t have to worry about that. Rolt is coming to get me!”

     Lore raised his brow in surprise, “Your family is coming here? To Risa?”

     “Yes! Well, not my whole family. Just Rolt. He’s a merchant and he has his own ship and crew. I had no idea, he left the camp years before I did. Oh, this is so great! I won’t have to take a transport! I tried to contact my older sister, but no one knows where she is. It’s been years.”

     Lore was growing a bit irritated with her exuberance, for it was drawing some attention, but he supposed his impatience was merely getting the better of him. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be long gone and half way to Earth by now, but he had kept his word. He had gotten Teni to a Federation planet where he was sure she would be safe to travel home.

     “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you to Bajor, Teni.” He said, “It is too far out of the way.”

     “I know, I know.” She assured him, “Don’t be sorry. You’ve done more for me than anyone ever has. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

     “By not thanking me.” He deadpanned, his lips twitching up a ghost of a smile.

     “Oh, right. _Sorry._ ” She said sarcastically. In the few days it had taken them to reach Risa, she had learned that the best way to meet his moody bouts of sarcasm was to fight fire with fire. “I forgot how _Mr. Smith_ is embarrassed by gratitude.”

     Lore rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. She had demanded to know his surname, and so he had given her the false one he had been using for more than a year. The alias was pathetic, he knew, but obvious lies are usually ignored. People just didn’t think a criminal could be that stupid.

     “So….” Teni continued, suddenly awkward, “I guess I’ll be waiting here until my cousin arrives. When are you leaving?”

     “Immediately.” Lore stood from his seat and tried to ignore the sudden look of distress on Teni’s face. He would not call her a friend—for Lore found it difficult to fathom the concept of him having friends—but even if he wanted to entertain that idea, he could not. She didn’t even know his real name, let alone his _species._

     “But…um….” Teni fidgeted with her fingers suddenly, the old nervousness returning. “I guess that’s okay.”

     Lore frowned and tried to understand her awkwardness. She was going home, she was safe, and he had already made it clear that he had no romantic feelings for her. Why would she still care if he was around or not?

     “You don’t have to worry.” He said, “I’ve already arranged lodgings for you.”

     Teni’s shoulders slumped and her brow knitted into a kind of disappointed frown, “I wasn’t worried about that. I just…I’m going to miss you.”

     He wasn’t sure he understood. “Why?”

     “Oh, Prophets!” Teni shook her head irritably, “You have quite the low opinion of yourself, don’t you? Or maybe it’s of other people? I’m telling you I’m going to miss you because you’re my friend.”

     Lore almost scoffed. He couldn’t help it. “I don’t have friends.” He said flatly.

     “What? That’s—.” Teni shook her head, “Than why did you help me if I’m not your friend?”

     He shrugged, “I didn’t want to feel guilty.”

     It was clear that Teni couldn’t understand that response, but it did not seem to anger her. Instead, she let loose another disappointed sigh. “It doesn’t matter what you say, you do have friends. Well, at least one. I’m your friend.”

     Lore felt suddenly uncomfortable. There was only one other person who had ever called him a friend. She had insisted on being his friend, in fact. But, there was a great difference. Anna had known who he was, what he was, when they had become friends. Teni knew nothing, and Lore very much doubted that her issue of friendship would stand if she ever did.

     “You’re not my friend, Teni. You don’t know anything about me.” His tone was cold, as if he were trying to make certain that she would rethink her opinion.

     “I…What do I need to know?” She stammered, taken aback, “You helped me when you didn’t have to. You didn’t take advantage of me, you didn’t ask anything in return. That’s all I need to know about you.”

     Lore laughed a little, but the sound died in his throat like a cough, “If you knew who I was you would have chosen to stay on _Gesteia Nor._ ”

     It was uncertain if Lore could have said anything more shocking to Teni. Her jaw fell open and she clutched her hands against her stomach. “That—that’s crazy.” She said, “You can’t possibly be that bad.”

      “I can’t?” He continued. He wasn’t certain why he was even having this conversation, for it was quite reckless. Why could he not just leave her in ignorant bliss, believing some kind human had come to rescue her? It was the safest course, but he despised the self-indulgent lie. He knew he could not have friends and he was unwilling to entertain the illusion. Anna was one thing. Anna was unique.

      “Alright then.” Teni said, sounding a bit angry, “Tell me. What’s so horrible? Who are you?”

      Lore looked around and could not help but notice the absurd situation. They were standing in the bright afternoon sun next to a swimming pool full of vacationers. He supposed it didn’t matter. His vessel was in orbit and he could transport away in an instant. Still, none of that changed the fact that he was about to do something monumentally stupid.

      “My name is not Arik. It’s Lore.”

      Teni tilted her head, but no recognition glimmered in her eyes. It was understandable. Not everyone knew of him.

     _But she will._

     “Ok.” Teni nodded her head several times, “Lore.”

     He sighed and looked past her, “It won’t be difficult to look up, Teni. But, promise me something?”

     Teni nodded again, the only response she could make through her confusion.

     “It will take me nearly a week to reach my destination. Don’t tell anyone you saw me or know of me until then. Don’t mention my name to anyone. Please.”

     The seriousness in his voice was enough, even if Teni had a dozen questions. She nodded profusely. “Of course, Ar—Lore. I won’t tell anyone ever if that’s what you want.”

     He almost laughed again, but suppressed it this time. As soon as she knew who he was, he doubted she would be able to keep it to herself for long. He had just made a huge mistake, but he could live with it. He doubted anything she said to anyone would make it to Earth before he did. He stepped back from her.

     “I’m leaving now.” He said simply. He could see the hurt on her face, so he added, “It was good meeting you.”

     “Oh, shut up, you ass!” She laughed suddenly, wiping at her face with her long sleeve. “I can see that’s the nicest goodbye you’re capable of, so I’ll take it.”

     “Good.” He replied, feeling relieved that she was not upset. Of course, how that would change in the next few days, he could easily imagine. He nodded to her as he took a step back and turned away. She said nothing more and neither did he as he disappeared down one of the tree covered walkways leading away from the pool. As soon as he was alone, he pressed the transmitter in his pocket and disappeared into the green haze of a transporter beam.

     That night Teni enjoyed the most relaxing, gluttonous evening of her life. She ate two dinners, watched a beautiful show of traditional Risan dance, and drank too much sparkling wine. When she made it to her room later that evening, she sat down before the complimentary computer terminal and accessed the basic public search page for the Federation database. It was very frustrating and slow going, but Lore had taught her enough in the few days aboard his ship to get by. Finally, she got to the window and instructed it to search for the simple name _Lore._ She chose the first file to appear and began reading.

     Half way through the first paragraph, Teni fainted onto the carpeted floor.

    

          

     

    


	13. Chapter 13

 

**_“I_ don’t _want B-4 alone with Maddox.”_**

     “I was actually looking for you earlier in engineering. I met that Commander Millet.”

     Anna nearly choked on her scalding hot tea, causing some of it to run down her chin. She grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth quickly, feeling foolish.

     “Are you okay?” Owen asked with a laugh. He always found a way to make an awkward situation light.

     “Yes.” Anna said, smiling now, “The tea was just too hot.”

     “Either that or the mention of Millet’s name made you gag.” He leaned across the table, “I understand the sentiment. That guy’s a jerk.”

     _Jerk?_ Anna couldn’t say she disagreed with him, but it sounded like such an understatement. Jerk was a relatively innocent word, even a kind word compared to what she thought of Millet. She lifted her tea again, this time being sure to blow on it before taking a tentative sip.

     “You noticed that, huh?” She said. “I’m surprised. He’s seems to be so popular with everyone else.”

     Owen cringed, as if that idea was distasteful. “That’s just because they don’t know. Anna, I know you don’t engage in gossip or that sort of thing, but why do you keep all this to yourself? If people knew how that guy treats you—.”

     “Don’t, Owen. Please.” She said, her voice low, “He never says anything directly and he’s never broken regulations. I would only be hurting myself by complaining.”

     “I’m not talking about a formal complain. Just…maybe he wouldn’t feel so comfortable doing it if everyone was aware of it. You know?”

     Anna made a wry, almost suspicious smile, “What? You mean some kind of anonymous smear campaign?”

     “Ah, Jeez!” Owen rolled his eyes and laughed a little. The effect was terribly pleasant, as always. “You make it sound so devious. Besides, it’s not like you would be saying anything that isn’t true.”

     “Neither does he.” Anna said suddenly. She had thought it, and meant to mutter it under her breath, but Owen heard it none the less.

     He frowned and leaned further across the little round table toward her, “Hey. Don’t do that. Don’t make excuses for people.”

     Anna sighed heavily. She wasn’t making excuses; she was just acknowledging the truth. The things people said about her _were_ true, technically. She had been Lore’s friend. She had been _more_ than his friend. The sad thing was that many people saw those facts as a massive mark on her character. What kind of person would be friends with Lore? What kind of person would—. Anna refused to finish the thought. People were so cruel.

     “It’s fine, Owen.” She said, forcing a smile, “I’ve been dealing with this for a while, and Millet isn’t anything new to me. It will all go away. Eventually.”

     She hated the sound of her own words. A part of her, small but determined, screamed in defiance. She shouldn’t care what they said or how they treated her; their self-riteous opinions be damned! But, that was a just a little part of her, and her greater self was beginning to wear under the strain. That greater self—the new professional Lt. Hall that she had worked so hard to create—told her that there was no point in being defiant. Lore was gone, so what was to be gained by standing by him? All she had to do was show a little regret, maybe tell a few people here and there how stupid she thought she had been and then everything would be fine. That’s what they wanted, right? Regret?

     Owen smiled reassuringly and stirred some cream into his coffee, “Did you give any thought to my suggestion?”

     Anna took a long sip of her tea, burning her tongue, but she needed to stall. “Um…I have. I’m not sure if I want to leave the _Enterprise._ ”

     Owen frowned but quickly covered it up. “I know, but the billet at Utopia Planetia is a good one. You’re a great engineer, Anna. You shouldn’t still be serving on an entry-level billet aboard the _Enterprise._ You have no positional authority.”

     _Owen, Owen…._ Every person had flaws, and Owen’s primary flaw was his ambition, as far as Anna could see. She knew his dream of dreams was to one day be the chief of Starfleet Medical.  

     “I know.” She continued, “And please don’t tell me again that I should have been the new assistant chief engineer. I’m not the management type.”

     Owen smiled at her, bright and inviting, “Oh, yes you are. You’re a people person, Anna. Those are the best managers. Besides, you’ll never become Chief Engineer if you aren’t an assistant somewhere first. We all have to drudge through the nonsense to get to the top.”

     _I don’t care about the top._ Anna smiled indulgently, for though she was not particularly ambitious, she did not see it as too much of a negative in Owen. Besides, she was the last person who should be scoring people’s flaws. Maybe—just maybe—she should be a little more ambitious. Maybe a little positional authority would encourage respect from people and lessen some of the snide comments that she knew people made behind her back.

     “So?”

     “I’ll think about it.” She said, putting an end to the conversation. She couldn’t tell Owen, or anyone else for that matter, that her continued presence aboard the _Enterprise_ was not entirely by choice. In the weeks and months after Lore’s death, she had decided that the best solution was to get away from everything and everyone that reminded her of him. She had done the traditional thing and applied for announced billets, one on Earth and a few on other starships, but every submission had been met with a rejection. At first she had chalked it up to mere coincidence. Perhaps she had applied for billets that were popular and other officers had already snatched them up, but when she had received four rejections with virtually no explanation, the coincidence became too much and too obvious.

     Utopia Planetia would probably be no different.

     “Oh! I almost forgot.” Owen leaned in, his blue eyes wide, “How was working with Seven of Nine?”

     Anna smiled, throwing off her bitter thoughts, “It was…interesting. Though, I think people are wrong about her.”

     “How so?” He said, genuinely curious.

     “She isn’t cold and mechanical, she’s just…reserved. She keeps everything close to the vest.” Anna shrugged and took another sip of her tea. The afternoon had indeed been interesting, as she had finally managed to melt through some of Seven’s anxious exterior by getting her to explain the new propulsion refit. It truly was going to be amazing, a next generation advancement that would have a huge effect on the Alpha quadrant. If the damn thing worked.

     Owen laughed suddenly. He quickly tried to draw it in, as if he had not meant to laugh, but it was too late. Anna gave him a curious smile, almost laughing herself.

     “What’s so funny?” She pressed.

     “Nothing.” He said with a wave, “It’s just—You haven’t changed a bit.”

     “Why do you say that?” She said with a smile.

     “Seven of Nine.” He replied, “You’re still going to the misfits to make your friends, Anna. You always did.”

     For a moment she considered being insulted, but it was clear he didn’t mean it that way. Instead, she smiled and patted his hand, “I know, but who else was going to be your friend if not me?”

     “Hey! I wasn’t talking about me!” He exclaimed, trying to sound serious.

     “Really?” She replied, “But you’re the biggest _misfit_ I know.”

     “Uh huh.” He rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. “I _really_ doubt that.”

     She was about to continue with the sarcastic repartee, until his words sank in. She lowered her eyes to her plate and picked at her breakfast. He certainly wasn’t the biggest misfit she had ever known; not by a long shot.

     “Hey. Did I say something?” He pressed, suddenly sounding worried. When she didn’t reply right away, he reached out his hand and set it gently over hers.

     Anna was a little surprised when she _didn’t_ have the urge to pull it away. Things were moving fast with Owen, and part of her was very pleased about that. He was a good guy. Everyone liked him. She would never have to make excuses for Owen or explain their relationship to people. The new Professional Lt. Hall was very happy about that, while the old Anna sulked in her subconscious corner and gave Owen a dirty look.

     “It’s nothing.” She said, smiling. She let her eyes stay on his a little too long as she acknowledged for perhaps the hundredth time the kindness and warmth that always seemed to be there.

     Discomfort finally set in, though, and she gently pulled her hand into her lap as she turned her gaze out the massive promenade viewport. Earth stood as a massive ball, filling the view so completely that patrons often felt as if they were falling to the surface.

     “Are you going to take leave?” Owen asked. His voice was low and cautious because he had asked this question before.

     Anna sighed, “I don’t think I should, not with this new assignment.”

     “They can get anyone to follow Seven of Nine around and give her computer access.” Owen objected. “Seriously, Anna. You told me you haven’t been on leave in over a year, and even then you didn’t go home. When was the last time you saw any of your family?”

     Anna turned away. She really did not want to discuss this. The last time she had been home was just before her assignment to the _Enterprise_. She had not seen any of her family in over two years, and she did not want to see them now. It wasn’t that she didn’t get on with them or anything like that. God, no! She had a wonderful, close-knit family that she adored, but that was the problem. The entire family was always in each other’s business, and the last thing she needed, the last thing she thought she could take, would be hearing their belated disapproval of Lore. She knew it would come up. She knew it would be the elephant in the room until someone, probably her little sister Louise, would bring it up in a spectacularly tactless fashion. That was the Hall family; spectacularly tactless.

     “I’ll think about it.” She said, forcing a smile. When she thought he would continue pressing, she laid her hand on his and gently squeezed. The smile that lit up his face was truly touching. “I really will. I promise.”

     “Ok.” He sighed, a little appeased. He took a long sip of his coffee and shifted his eyes for a moment before he scooted his chair forward, “Anna, I wanted to ask you. I have holodeck reservations this evening. Would you like to go with me?”

     For a moment, Anna wasn’t sure she understood the gravity of his tone. They had had several meals together, several of which could only be described as a date, so going to the holodeck didn’t seem like such a big thing. However, his tone clearly indicated that it was so, and Anna quickly realized that he was asking her on a real date. A _date_ date.

     “Oh?” She said over the rim of her cup, “What did you have in mind?”

     He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. The sudden appearance of nervousness was…well, Anna couldn’t describe it as anything other than cute.

     “I was thinking hiking or maybe—.”

     “Hello, Commander.” Anna said suddenly, rising to her feet. She had just seen Geordi LaForge ascend the steps to the promenade café, and he was clearly on a direct course for her.

     Owen saw as well.

     “It’s fine. Don’t get up on my account.” Geordi said quickly, though his tone did not relay the casualness of the words.

     Anna slowly sat back down, “Everything alright, Sir?”

     Geordi expelled an irritated sigh, “Not quite. Did you give Seven of Nine your access code?”

     _Oh, shit._ Anna swallowed hard, “No, Sir. I entered it several times, though, in front of her. I suppose she easily saw it.”

     Geordi frowned, though it wasn’t an angry frown. He looked more confused, “Why not?”

     Anna shifted uncomfortably. What the hell was going on in engineering? “What do you mean?”

     “I mean why didn’t you give her your access code? This whole liaison thing is a formality. I don’t expect you to shadow her every move just to log in and out of systems all day. That’s why I wanted a lower level engineer, so that she could use your access code and be limited to level 2 systems and below. It’s standard subcontractor protocol.”

     Anna tried not to look confused, which was easy since she was quickly sliding into the realm of pissed off. Millet had given her a very different impression of how Seven of Nine was to be handled.

     “I’m sorry, Commander. I guess I misunderstood.” She said, beginning to stand again.

     “That’s ok.” He said quickly, “I just had to put out a weird fire in engineering is all. Seven tried to use your access code to get into some diagnostic systems, and it set off an intruder alert. When I asked her about it, she admitted that she had seen your code, but you hadn’t given it to her. The intruder alert went off because your code is expired?”

     Anna could feel heat sending itchy shivers over the back of her neck. There was just no clean way out of this. She took a deep breath, “That’s right, Sir. Commander Millet told me to change my access code every twenty-four hours.”

     Geordi’s brow knitted together in an instant look of disapproval, “Why would he do that?”

     She opened her mouth, ready to give him a bland response of ignorance, when she stopped. She respected Geordi a hell of a lot more than she worried about Millet, and she wasn’t about to lie to him. She swallowed hard, “I think Commander Millet doesn’t trust Seven of Nine. He didn’t want her to know my access code.”

     The round muscles at the hinge of Geordi’s jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. A quick close of his eyes and the show of suppressed angry was complete. Millet was going to get it, and Anna knew that she was eventually going to get it too.

     “Thanks, Hall. That’s pretty much what I thought.” He gave Owen a polite nod and headed off back across the promenade. His pace was noticeably faster.

     “Oh, shit.” Anna muttered and she let her head fall into one of her hands. “Just what I need.”

     “Don’t let that jerk bully you.” Owen said quickly, “I’m glad. I hope LaForge rails him. Oh! He’s not done.”

     “What?” Anna looked up quickly, just in time to see Geordi stop in his tracks and turn around, his stance the perfect model of someone who had forgotten something.

     Geordi stopped at their table again and leaned a little close to Anna, “I almost forgot. Hall, I need to ask a favor of you. Admiral Flin is coming to the station tonight to look over the final test schematics for the new propulsion system and I _have_ to be there. The problem is that….” Geordi swallowed as if a bad taste had just entered his mouth, “The problem is that Bruce Maddox is also going to be here this evening to see B-4. I’ve been putting him off as long as possible, but I can’t anymore. I need someone to be there while he examines B-4.”

     The breath she had just been about to take suddenly lodged in her throat, and Anna had to subtly press her fist into her diaphragm to get it going again. Bruce Maddox. Bruce _fucking_ Maddox. The tips of her ears grew hot.

     “Sir, um…couldn’t Dr. Crusher—.”

     “She’s gone to Scotland to visit some family today, and Troi is already behind with her preparations for the _Titan’s_ departure. Hall, I wouldn’t ask, but I need someone there who understands the situation. I _don’t_ want B-4 alone with Maddox. He is here _only_ to interview him. Questions and non-invasive scans only.”

     Anna could feel herself nodded even as her mind tried to think of a way to get out of it. She knew she could flat-out refuse and there would be no negative repercussions. As embarrassing as it was, she knew Geordi understood her discomfort around B-4. He had probably noticed her discomfort around Data too, after Lore died.

     But, she wouldn’t do that.

     “Of course. When?”

     He sighed, obviously relieved, “Nineteen hundred, the main science lab. I’ve already informed B-4, and I really appreciate this, Hall.”

     She smiled, “Of course. Don’t mention it.”

     He nodded a final time, to each of them, and departed at the same quick pace back toward his never-ending list of duties. Anna turned slowly in her seat and gave Owen a sad smile. For his part, he merely shrugged one shoulder and smiled.

     “That’s okay. I’ll hold you to a rain check, though.”

    Anna smiled anew, “A baseball reference? I’m surprised, Mr. Aussie.”

    “Hey, I know something about baseball. Besides, cricket doesn’t really lend itself to colloquialisms.”

    “No it doesn’t.” She gave him a reassuring smile, letting him know that she truly regretting the lost evening. The scary thing was—and this _was_ scary to her—she really did regret it.

    

    


	14. Chapter 14

 

** “Do not let him hurt me, Anna.” **

     “Look to the left.”

     B-4 shifted his eyes to the left.

     “No. I mean, turn your head to the left.” Maddox said, exasperation showing in his voice. B-4 turned his head to the left and Maddox swiped the blue laser light over his face in a slow motion. The blue lined scanned down his face, falling into every line and curve. Maddox pulled back and regarded the results.

     “Identical.” He mused to himself, “Absolutely identical to Lore.”

     Anna shifted her weight irritably, her arms crossed over her chest. Maddox looked up at her.

     “I’m speaking _physically_ , of course.” He clarified. “Data’s eyes were two point six microns larger than Lore’s, and he was three microns shorter.”

     Anna resisted the urge to scoff. _Microns…? How ridiculous._

     “But, B-4 here is physically identical to Lore, which would make sense since Lore was built just after him.”

     As Maddox spoke Anna got the very distinct impression that he wasn’t _really_ speaking to her. The man just liked to hear himself talk, and especially about his field of expertise. What really irritated her was that Maddox appeared not to acknowledge any kind of bad blood between the two of them, despite the fact that she had once called him a liar in Captain Picard’s ready room and accused him of attacking Lore. The man was either oblivious or just didn’t care.

     _The bastard doesn’t care._

Maddox took another long look at his scans and released a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Such a damn shame.” He muttered, “If Data had been reassigned, off a starship, as I had always recommended this wouldn’t have happened.”

     Anna sneered and actually showed her teeth, a thing she _never_ did. Data had saved the lives of almost nine hundred people, and he had saved the Captain personally, but it was more than likely that Maddox didn’t give a damn about any of that.

     “Since we’re all still alive, I’ll have to disagree.” She said coldly, not looking at him.

     Maddox made a _harrumph_ sound as if barely acknowledging her. He continued to scrutinize his scans, satisfying himself, then set the scanner aside. He turned his eyes back to B-4.

     “I’m going to ask you some questions. If you are capable of answering, do so. If not, simply say ‘I don’t know’. _Don’t_ make something up.” Maddox instructed as he picked up a data-pad and stood in front of B-4.

     B-4 was seated on a stool on the raised exam platform in the center of the lab. The height put him just below eyelevel with Maddox, who circled B-4 as if he were some kind of zoo specimen in a cage.

     “B-4, how old are you?”

     “I—I do not know.” B-4 replied, his voice low.

     “Are you older than forty-three?” Maddox continued.

     “Yes.”

     “Are you younger than forty-six?”

     “I do not know.”

     “Are you younger than fifty?”

     “Yes—I do not know.” B-4 said.

     “B-4, how do you know that you are older than forty-three?” Maddox pressed, not missing a beat.

     B-4’s eyes widened as if he was nervous, then, “Data told me that I am older than Lore. Lore is forty-three, so I am older than forty-three.”

     Anna closed her eyes and tried to ignore the present tense. It was just another one of B-4’s unaccountable flaws.

     Maddox pursed his lips and hummed. “I see. So you don’t remember the span of your life? You don’t _know_ yourself how old you are?”

     B-4 starred at Maddox for several long seconds, his brow knitting in either confusion or worry. Anna was not sure which.

     “I do not know.”   

     Maddox huffed a sigh and entered something onto his pad. His entire demeanor was really beginning to grate on Anna, and they hadn’t been in the same room yet for twenty minutes. He talked down to B-4, like a teacher dealing with a particularly stupid child, and he did not even try to mask his disappointment at every turn. B-4 just wasn’t up to Maddox’s high standards, and Maddox seemed determined to let that be known.

     “Don’t ask him indirect questions.” Anna said, “He can’t handle them. You have to use question words. What, where, when, why, how.”

     Maddox closed his eyes and shook his head, clearly disgusted, “I see. That’s very disappointing. Even an EMH can discern questions from statements through tonal recognition.”

     “Then maybe you should switch careers and become a holo-programmer.” Anna quipped. She would usually not dare to be so snide with a superior officer, but Anna had no fear of Maddox’s rank. Picard despised the man, and Geordi was barely tolerating him. There was nothing Maddox could do to her.

     Maddox did not appear to hear her, or was choosing to ignore the statement. Instead, he leveled a serious eye on her, “What was the manner of the transfer that Data used to upload his memories to B-4? Did he actually copy the sequence of his neural net, or was it merely a base file dump?”

     “I don’t know.” She deadpanned, “I was in weapons control during all of that.”

     “Mmm.” He entered something else into the pad. “Does B-4 ever reference Data’s memories directly?” Anna’s eyes widened. Maddox saw the reaction and continued, “I’ve already spoken to some of the engineering staff who have spent time around B-4. They mentioned it.”

     _Then why are you asking me?_ “He does.” She said flatly.

     He turned back to B-4, who had darted his eyes back and forth between the two of them as they spoke. “B-4, can you tell me on what date Data adopted his cat, Spot?”

     B-4 cocked his head, “No.”

     Maddox hesitated, “Can you not tell me, or do you not know?”

     B-4 hesitated and looked as if he was growing nervous again. Anna stepped forward, since Maddox clearly didn’t know how to follow instructions. “B-4, on _what_ date did Data adopt Spot?”

     “I do not know.” B-4 replied, looking directly at Anna.

     Maddox frowned, “How is that possible? You have his memories, do you not? Let’s try something else. What did I say to Data when he told me he was resigning from Starfleet?”

     B-4’s look of worry only intensified, and he looked to Anna as if pleading for help, “I do not know.”

     “This is ridiculous.” Maddox said, dropping his hands at his sides, “Was he instructed not to cooperate with me?”

     Anna shot Maddox a nasty glare, “Of course not, Captain. He’s answering to the best of his abilities.”

     “ _That’s_ what I’m afraid of. I’ve been given at least four examples from other crewmen where he has referenced Data’s memories, yet he seems incapable of answering a few simple questions related to them.”

     “Would you do us a favor, Captain?” Anna said suddenly, he temper flaring. “Could you not talk about him as if he isn’t here? He’s sitting right in front of you.”

     Maddox scoffed and actually shook his head, “From what I’ve seen so far, _Lieutenant_ , I doubt he recognizes the slight.”

     Anna turned away and found herself really, _really,_ regretting the fact that Lore had never gotten a chance to punch Maddox in the face. She would certainly love to see it now.

     B-4 looked up suddenly, his eyes on Maddox, “You were always rude to me.”

     Maddox’s eyes widened sharply, “Excuse me?”

     B-4 tilted his head and looked suddenly confused, “Are you leaving? ‘Excuse me’ is for when people leave.”

     “No!” Maddox shouted irritably, “What you just said! You said ‘you were always rude to me.’ I have never met you prior to today.”

     B-4 blinked several times. “That is correct. I had not met you prior to today.”

     “Then why did you say that?” Maddox pressed.

     Anna cleared her throat, “That was Data.”

     “What!” Maddox cried, actually taking a step back. A sheen of sweat glistened on the man’s forehead, and Anna wondered if that had been there before.

     She lifted her hands to calm him. Even she acknowledged that what she had just said didn’t sound right, “I mean, he was speaking from Data’s perspective.” She said, “ _That_ was the memory reference everyone described to you. He does it sometimes, for no reason. He’ll just…say something in the first person from Data’s memory. But you know the difference, don’t you Bee?”

     B-4 looked at Anna and smiled, “Yes, Anna. I know the difference. I am sorry.”

     Maddox’s spastic breathing was beginning to slow. He took a step closer to B-4, his data-pad at the ready, “So these…lapses. He doesn’t seem to be able to control them?”

     Anna frowned, “I don’t know, but he doesn’t do it all the time. It’s…sudden.”

     “Intermittent access.” He muttered, “Very interesting…. Perhaps his forward data filter could be bypassed….”

     Anna shifted her weight again. _When is this going to be over?_

     Maddox reached behind him to the small rolling table he had placed there, and retrieved a tiny tool with a glass tip. Anna immediately recognized a laser cutter.

     “Captain, Commander LaForge was very specific about not—.”

     “No!” B-4 cried suddenly as he swiped his hand in Maddox’s direction.

     “Bee, don’t!” Anna shouted, but it was too late. B-4’s hand collided with Maddox’s elbow with such force that it spun him around, sending Maddox down to his knees on the edge of the platform. B-4 leapt back off the stool and ran toward Anna. She held her hands in front of her in a panic, fearing the worst, but B-4 meant her no harm. He took up a position behind her and cowered—actually cowered—as he gripped her hand.

     “Do not let him hurt me, Anna.” He whispered. His voice was so overwhelmed with fear that it sent a bolt of pity into Anna’s stomach, causing it to leap with butterflies.

     “God!” Maddox grunted as he regained his feet. He was holding his left elbow tight against his chest and clenching his teeth in a display of real throbbing pain. He lifted his eyes, angry and cautious, at the two of them.

     “What is wrong with him!” Maddox demanded, “He could have broken my arm!”

     “I am sorry.” B-4 said, his eyes hidden behind Anna.

     “Sorry!”

     Anna took a short step in the direction of the door, making certain that B-4 moved with her. She made an effort to remove the venom from her voice, “You had a laser scalpel, Captain. He thought you were going to hurt him.”

     “Hurt? He can’t feel pain, for crying out loud! I’m calling security.”

     “What?” Anna moved closer to the door. “That’s ridiculous. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

     Maddox gave her such a look of contempt that she swore she could feel it, “You must be joking.” He spat, “Didn’t do anything wrong? I think my elbow is dislocated! He is obviously dangerous!”

     _Dangerous._ Anna’s jaw fell open and her eyes grew to disks. Suddenly it was so clear. The laser scalpel, his off-handed comment about B-4’s forward data filter; that combined with the fact that B-4 knew how Geordi felt about Maddox, and everything virtually guaranteed that B-4 would react badly.

     She turned around quickly, “B-4, go to your quarters.”

     He starred down at her, his brow knitted into a pitiful look of worry, “I…I do not want to be alone.”

     “Geordi will meet you there soon. I promise.” She said. When he still looked nervous, she squeezed his hand tightly, but still avoided his eyes, “I promise, Bee.”

     “Okay.” He said. He let go of her hand, turned, and disappeared quickly into the corridor.

     Maddox glared at her, still holding his injured elbow. He tapped his combadge with the hand cradled against his chest, “Captain Maddox to security. I need to report an assault. Please report to the main science lab.”

     _“Understood, Captain.”_

     Maddox turned away from her and took a seat on a nearby chair. Anna refused to wait for security. She had no interest in being present for Maddox’s tall tale, because she knew she would not be able to resist the urge to argue. And the last thing she needed floating around the ship gossip mill was her impassioned defense of B-4. It made her feel guilty, but she resisted. She would issue her report to Geordi, in writing.

     “I’m amazed at you, _Lieutenant._ ” Maddox said through clenched teeth. Clearly his pain was getting worse.

     “How’s that, _Sir.”_ She snapped.

     “I should think you would have learned your lesson about throwing your lot in with the wrong people. Tell me, how many transfer requests have you made and had shot down?”

     The room had suddenly grown very hot. Anna drew a deep breath, but nothing came of it. She was incapable of speaking. How did he know about that?

     “That was a bad move.” He continued, “You should have figured out with the first rejection that you were marked and stopped while you were ahead. But now you have _five_ transfer rejections in your personnel record. How do you think that looks to other transfer officers? From now on, every time you try to get a new assignment, they will see those rejections and wonder the cause. Even if they don’t know who you are, even if they don’t know _who your friends were_ , they will figure it out as soon as they call up references for all those transfer rejections.”

     Anna shifted her weight towards the door. She felt sick. Truly, physically sick.

     Maddox scoffed, “You did all that to yourself, but it will go away eventually. People will eventually forget, or enough time will pass where they just don’t care. _Unless_ you keep making mistakes.”

     _So that’s the game._ Anna starred at the sweating, huffing man only a few yards from her. Whatever B-4 had done was only now taking effect, for Maddox’s face was growing pale and he looked on the verge of passing out. She wanted to refute him, or at the very least to tell him to go to hell, but what was the point in that? She knew he was right and she also knew that he could easily follow through on his threat. Maddox could make sure that no one, anywhere, ever forgot about Lore.

     She walked to the door and stopped at the frame, “I’m surprised at _you_ , Sir.”

     He made a derisive snort.

     “You have been studying Data and Lore and now B-4 for quite some time. You’re an expert, _the_ expert in fact.” She said slowly.

     “And your point?” He said.

     “My _point_ is that you know better than anyone what they are capable of, and yet you stuck a laser scalpel in B-4’s face and hoped for the best. Count yourself lucky that he swatted your arm and not the side of your head. _Captain.”_

     Anna did not wait for his response. She moved into the brighter lights of the corridor and set a quick pace to engineering, where she hoping to find Geordi before security did.      

    


	15. Chapter 15

**XV.**

_What happened?_

     The Sol system, sector 001, was perhaps the most secure and heavily surveilled system in the entire Federation. Beginning at the outer reaches of Pluto’s orbit and extending in through Saturn’s, were a series of sensor nets so sophisticated that acquisition of the technology was still one of the prime objectives of the Dominion. There were no warships, no roving squads of fighter craft. In fact, there was not a single obvious show of force or deterrent power as one approached the Sol system, and this served a double purpose. Tactically, it was smart to hide one’s defenses, to keep the enemy overly confident. Culturally, it felt good to have the illusion of normalcy, and humans despised looking unfriendly.

     Lore looked down at his console and smiled with no little satisfaction. His vessel had just glided, undetected, through the final perimeter sensor net. He waited one minute, then five, and still there was no indication that his passage had been noticed. He was cautious enough to remain on alert until he passed Jupiter and entered the distance of Mars’ orbit. Nothing.

     He allowed himself a cocky smile and set about checking and adjusting the fine-tuned calibrations of his vessel’s cloak. It was hardly a standard cloaking device, much like those employed by the Romulans or the Klingons. Starfleet had cracked that particular nut some time ago, and so it hadn’t been long after reacquiring his ship that he had set about designing something truly ingenious.

     _So far so good._

His self-satisfaction was short lived, however, as a strong wave of anxious excitement overtook him. He was going to see Anna again. She was so close it was practically no distance at all! The logical part of him knew that he should be more concerned about Troi’s letter, about finding out what could possibly have induced Data to break his word and call him back, but he was finding it difficult to focus. He was too worried, too…fearful?

     Fear was not an emotion that Lore had much experience with. The few times he had experienced it had all been associated with Anna. Fear for her safety, fear over her feelings for him. They had all been assuaged, but now he was fearful again. How was he going to explain? How was he going to reveal himself? He detested the idea of just appearing at her door, but what could he do? He did not—absolutely _not!—_ want her to learn the truth second hand. That meant he would have to be fast. He would have to find Troi, get her to talk, then find Anna before news of his arrival spread. It shouldn’t be that difficult, since he still looked human.

     Lore caught his reflection in the console once again and frowned. How he wanted to remove that ridiculous blue pigment from his eyes and synthetic tan dye from his skin! But, he could not; not yet. He would need at least this barrier to see him around the station for as long as it took him to find Troi.

     The congestion of vessels increased substantially as he emerged from the asteroid belt and entered the heavily trafficked space between Earth and Mars. Earth increased exponentially on his view screen as he drew near, bobbing and weaving around the screen as he was forced to make drastic course corrections to avoid the vessels that could not see him. His approach slowed as the traffic increased to the point of becoming a serious problem. In addition to the usual direct path transports, there appeared to be several squads of single-pilot fliers and jump craft, zooming around in an indeterminate path. He made a wide arch around them and settled into a low arctic orbit so that he could conduct some scans and plan his next move.

     He already knew that Troi had sent her message from the _Titan_ , and that the vessel was docked along with the _Enterprise_ in one of the massive dry dock facilities that orbited Earth. Detecting the _Enterprise_ ID beacon had been no trouble at all, but he was a bit concerned by the fact that there had been no warp signature; not even a trace. That only happened when a ship’s dilithium chamber was no longer in warm-up, when the engines had been completely shut down. He was about to dismiss the detail again when the image on his viewscreen stretched over the curve of the Earth and finally brought the number three dry dock station into view.

     Lore’s breath seized. The _Enterprise_ was a shambles. Her nose was crushed and peeled back, the obvious result of a collision. Nearly a third of the saucer section was no more, and dark lifeless windows extended back even further. The aft section appeared to be intact, but Lore could also see on it the black scars of disruptor fire and torpedo impacts.

     _What happened?_

     A massive panic overtook him as his fingers flew over the console. Within minutes he had managed to remote access the station’s database, though his haste drove him to do so with far less stealth than he would have liked. He searched for station IDs and immediately scanned for Anna’s name. He bent over in a spasm of relief when he saw a rather lengthy list of her station movements, the most recent only an hour old. She was alive.

     His console beeped a warning to inform him that his illegal presence in the database was going to be detected at any moment. He made a quick search for Troi’s location, saw with much relief that she was aboard the station, and immediately backed out of the database before he could give himself away. He moved his vessel in closer, drawing as near as he could to the station without impeding the small craft traffic that circled it like a bees’ nest.

     The structure gave one the impression of a massive skeletal ribcage with the _Enterprise_ trapped behind the ribs. Each rib glistened with lighted windows and tiny airlocks, some docked with vessels and others vacant. It did not take Lore long to see that the very last ‘rib’ on the port side was almost entirely dark and that no vessels moved in its orbit. A closer inspection showed several exposed inner airlocks and beams. The section was obviously under some kind of construction and currently uninhabited.

     A very risky idea occurred to Lore suddenly, for he had not actually given any forward thought to _how_ he was going to gain access to the station or the _Enterprise._ He considered the pros and cons and decided that very soon it would not matter either way. He just needed enough time to find Troi, find Anna, and then the consequences could fall as they may. He didn’t care. In fact, he almost looked forward to the shock and awe he was about to induce. No doubt there were many who would be very disappointed to see him, and he was glad to disappoint. All he cared about was the person who would be thrilled to see him.

      Lore smiled to himself and directed his vessel toward one of the dark airlocks.

    


	16. Chapter 16

 

**_“You called, Counselor?”_ **

     Troi pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to calm the flutter in her stomach. As if knowing all the facts about the situation weren’t bad enough, she had to contend with the anger radiating from the seat next to her. Other people would never know how much their emotions affected her.

     “He would not _let_ me treat him.” Crusher exclaimed for the third time. “He outright demanded that we walk to sickbay, in spite of the fact that he was about to pass out.”

     Riker closed his eyes briefly and rested his elbows on the café table. “Maddox wouldn’t let you give him anything for the pain?”

     “Oh, he did.” Crusher replied, “Once we got to sickbay. We walked all the way to the airlock and halfway across the station while he was clutching that dislocated elbow to his chest and just barely hanging on. I’m telling you, Will, he did it on purpose. He wanted to be seen. He was making a spectacle of himself.”

       The venom in Crusher’s voice was palpable, and with good reason. Once they had made it to sickbay, Maddox had had the nerve to refuse treatment from Crusher personally. He had insisted, in his snide way, that it would perhaps be better if he was treated by someone who did not have a friendly relationship with his attacker. _Attacker._ Troi was almost embarrassed for the man’s disgustingly obvious attempt to defame B-4 and cast him in a bad light. Although, she did have to admit that the entire incident, as described by Lt. Hall’s statement, was shocking. B-4 had never shown any predilection to violence, not even in self preservation.

     But how well did they know him? It had been barely two months.

     Riker drew back and let his coffee cup hover in front of his lips, “The station manager spoke to the Captain about it. He doesn’t want B-4 on the station. For now.”

     “I don’t believe this.” Crusher groaned. “ _What_ he did is not the problem. If someone stuck a laser scalpel in my face I would probably do worse than smack them, but B-4 hasn’t learned to control his strength. Not entirely, anyway.”

     Troi sighed and fingered the handle of her mug. The _Titan_ would be leaving orbit in three days, and this latest incident only increased the guilty sense that she was abandoning things. She felt like she was abandoning the Captain and the _Enterprise_ , her friendship with Beverly, and now she felt as if she had single-handedly hoisted a problem into Geordi’s lap with B-4. Bruce Maddox _was_ going to be a problem. There was no doubt in her mind.

     A few moments of silence went by before Crusher sighed and leaned back in her chair. “My paper on Anna’s lung transplant is being published in the Starfleet Medical Journal.” Crusher said.

      Troi smiled, “I’m glad. It really was ingenious, Bev.”

     “Damn straight.” Riker muttered in agreement.

     “Don’t give too much praise.” She sighed, “I give credit where credit is due. If it wasn’t for that article I read last year by _Voyager’s_ EMH….” She trailed off, shaking her head, “Anyway, my paper reads more like a medical file than a polished article. I just didn’t have the time.”

     Troi nodded in sympathy. Everyone knew about _that_ particular tragedy. Many people had lost their lives in the collision, and many more had been injured, but Anna…. It was like fate had it out for her.

     Troi sighed and pushed back her chair. There seemed to be a short supply of happy subjects lately.

     “If you’ll excuse me,” She said with a facetious smile, “I have to get _one more_ hot chocolate.”

     “Uh huh. One more.” Riker said with a knowing grin. He loved to tease his new wife about her addiction to chocolate.

     “Really. I _swear._ ” She tossed back, “Anything for you?”

     Riker looked at his near empty cup, “I wouldn’t mind another. Thanks.”

     Troi nodded and headed off to the self-serve replicators just off the side of the massive seating area. The café was quite busy today with officers and civilian contractors eating lunch and chatting loudly. The attendants were being run ragged, so she was glad for the self-serve option. She waited several minutes for her turn, then replicated a tall cup of hot chocolate, complete with a mountain of cinnamon speckled whip cream, and a cup of black coffee for Will. She took a breath and reminded herself that she needed to find a way to enjoy her last few days with the _Enterprise._ There was no telling when she would see any of her old crew—her friends—again.

     As she allowed her mind to wander to past missions and other nostalgic remembrances, her own thoughts were interrupted by a heavy sensation from outside. It was a common occurrence, when someone near her was feeling a particularly strong emotion, but it was usually intense happiness or anger that broke in. This was more like…excitement? Anticipation? She hesitated and allowed herself to simply examine the feeling. If not for its complexity, she would almost be tempted to call it downright giddiness.

     Troi shrugged it away and turned around, both hands brimming with steaming cups.

     _What the—? Oh, my God._

Lore stood next to a pillar a few yards from Riker and Crusher. He was even facing in their direction and they had no idea. It was shocking how quickly she recognized him, how perfectly certain she was. Hesitation would have been understandable. His skin! His eyes! Even his hair was different, and it all combined to create a perfect imitation of flesh-toned humanity. Lore met her eyes and smiled as he crossed his arms lazily over his chest. It was that cocky, I’ve-got-you grin.

     Troi’s jaw went slack and her arms simply dropped to her sides. The mugs fell from her limp hands with a spectacular splash and clatter.

     “Deanna?” Riker said, suddenly alarmed.

     Lore took a step forward, “You called, Counselor?”

     “Holy shit!” Riker burst suddenly, knocking his chair over as he bolted to his feet. He starred at Lore with shocked, disk-like eyes, before they quickly narrowed to slits.

     Crusher went ahead and skipped the shocked phase, “Oh, you’ve got to be _kidding_ me!”

     Lore grinned again, barely able to contain his expression. It was just the reaction he had been hoping for; loud and shocked. After all, he deserved nothing less.   

     “You can stop acting surprised, Counselor.” Lore crooned, “The cat’s out of the bag.”

     Eyes darted in Troi’s direction, and they were not just the eyes of Riker and Crusher. The room had gone silent at Riker’s explicative, and now people were eyeing Lore with a growing sense of unease. He looked familiar to them, but they just weren’t sure.

     “Eh…um” Troi stuttered. Her words felt stuck in her throat, “I didn’t know.”

     Lore’s amused grin faltered and his brow knitted slightly, “Didn’t know what?”

     Riker was at Troi’s side now, pulling her closer to the table. A murmur was beginning to go up in the café, and there was no telling how bad it would be once certainty set in.

     “I didn’t know…you were alive.” Troi finished, lowering her voice.

     Lore’s frown vanished, replaced by yet another broad grin, “Aw! Nice try, but I guess you and Data will just have to face the music for your little white lie. So, tell me. What’s so important?”

     Troi’s porcelain face was going so pale it was almost blue. Riker and Crusher were now looking at her with mixed expressions of confusion and accusation. Everything was falling into place. As astounding as it was, her weirdest and most unlikely suspicions had been true. The message had been for Lore. Data had known and planned all along.

     “No, no.” She shook her head vigorously as the words came spilling out, “I didn’t know anything about this. I just sent a message, as per Data’s instructions. I didn’t know it was going to you. I didn’t even know what it contained.”

     “Deanna, what are you talking about? And where have _you_ been?” Riker demanded, his voice coming out like a hiss through clenched teeth, “What did you do? How the hell did you manage _this?”_

Lore rolled his eyes, “Before you get too upset, maybe you should know that Data helped me. He understood my reasons, but that doesn’t matter right now.” He turned his attention back to Troi, “Are you going to tell me what this is about, or do I need to find Data?”

      A deathly silence overcame the three of them. The chatter in the café had filled back in somewhat as most of the patrons had concluded that the ruckus was some personal issue and none of their affair. In the midst of it Lore looked at each of them in turn, and his amusement slowly devolved to annoyance.

     “Troi? Are you going to answer me? Where is Data?”

     “Lore, there’s a lot of things we need to discuss—.”

     “Clearly it isn’t that pressing, or you would just say it.” Lore said quickly. He looked over his shoulder, across the expanse of the promenade, “But, I will have to put you off, my _dear_ Counselor. I have somewhere to be.”

     “What?” Crusher croaked. Her mouth felt horribly dry.

     Lore smiled again, “Don’t feel slighted, but I have much better company to keep than the three of you. Tell Data to find me whenever he’s ready to explain himself.”

     He turned and began walking away.

     “Where the hell do you think you’re going!” Riker shouted.

     “Guess, Riker. You’re intelligent enough.” Lore quipped.

     Crusher’s eyes widened and she bolted forward, blocking his path, “No! Wait. You can’t see Anna suddenly like this. You can’t!”

     Lore sighed with more disappointment than anger, “You just don’t give up, do you? Well, I took your advice, Doc, and I regret it. Just like Data told me I would, and I am not looking forward to his ‘I told you so’. Now, if you’ll get out of my way….”

    “No. Damnit, you need to stop and listen for a minute. You have no idea what’s going on. What’s happened around here!”

     Lore twisted around her with an easy, graceful motion, and backed down the stairs, “You can regale me with stories later. But, seeing as how you’re intent on being difficult, I think I’ll take the short cut to engineering.”

     “What?”

     Riker barely got the word out before Lore pressed something in his pocket and vanished in the green beam of his ship’s transporter. The café patrons looked at the shocked faces of the three Starfleet officers and slowly began to realize that something big had just happened.

     “Hey, Doc!” One of the civilians nearby said, “Who was that guy? I could swear I’ve seen his face before.”

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**_“You changed your hair.”_ **

     The junction room was vacant, which was an astounding bit of luck. Lore had had no way to check before setting up his emergency transport, but had guessed accurately that the room would be empty. He pressed his back against the wall next to the closed door and listened intently. He had checked Anna’s location in the station computer about twenty minutes ago, but he wanted to be sure that she was still there. He listened, his excitement mounting with each passing second.

     “Hey, Anna.” Came the casual voice of Ensign Blake, “You want to join the Ensign’s mess poker game tonight? Carson bailed on us and we need a fifth.”

     _She’s here!_ Lore indulged in a ridiculously bright smile.

     “Sorry, Blake. I have plans tonight.” Anna replied, “I’m going to the holodeck.”

     The sound of her voice sent a warm sensation into Lore’s hands. He clenched his fists a few times to savor it. He truly wished he could see her alone, but at the moment he could think of no way to make that happen and still get to her before someone else did. In fact, he was just waiting for the intruder alert to sound. His transporter technology was good but not that good, and he knew that Crusher and the others were probably rushing to engineering at that very moment.

     “Fine.” Blake huffed sarcastically, “I’ll see what Varek is doing tonight, though I hate playing with that guy. Talk about a poker face.”

     Lore hovered his hand over the door panel and took a moment to calm himself. Physical reactions to emotions were something built into his programming, but they were usually limited to facial expressions and exasperated sighs. Only Anna seemed to make his hands shake. Only Anna seemed to disrupt his clock-work breathing. It was wonderful.

     “Hey, Seven!” Blake shouted, “Do you play poker?”

     There was a long pause, followed by a very low and distant response, “I have never played the game.”

     Lore completely ignored the strange nickname—Seven—and pressed the control to open the door. It slid open with a hiss and he leaned out just far enough to get the lay of the room. Blake was sitting at a console just inside the control room, his back to Lore’s direction. A few other officers moved about the room, absorbed in their tasks and not even glancing his way. He focused his eyes on the open grate just in front of the warp dilithium chamber. Her auburn red hair gave her away at once.

     Anna was kneeling over the grate, reaching for something far below. “Seven, can you toss me a mag clamp?” Anna said, “I can’t reach this.”

     Anna looked up and lifted her hands just as a small object fell from the cat walk above. Anna caught it with a little fumble, “Thanks.” She knelt back down, continuing her task.

     Lore stepped out of the junction room slowly, his eyes focused on her back. Should he say something? Should he walk up behind her and tap her on the shoulder? He had thought of nothing but this moment for days, yet he was still no closer to imagining it. He continued to walk slowly toward the control table. A sharp intake of breath from the control room brought his attention there. Blake was staring at him, pale as a ghost and utterly still. Lore grinned and pressed a finger to his lips. _Be quiet._

     “ _Anna!_ ” Blake screamed like a banshee.

     She stumbled over the grate as she flew to her feet, “What! What the hell, Blake—.” Her voice caught in her throat when she saw him. He was standing just on the other side of the control table now, his fingers just resting on its surface.

     “Hello, Anna.”

     She was still, but her frame trembled slightly. She continued to stare as if she was not sure of her own eyes.

     “Commander LaForge!” Blake cried. The young man leapt from his seat and sprinted for the exit, his cries echoing down the hall. Lore would have rolled his eyes, but he was too focused on the still figure in front of him. He stepped closer, completely ignoring the stunned looks of the few other officers in the room.

     “You changed your hair.” He said quietly. It sounded so ridiculous to his ears, but he was suddenly at a loss. He took another step closer. Her cheeks were growing continuously pink, but something in her trembling told him that it was not the blush of shock or excitement. Her eyes were beginning to water, and just as he was about to reach for her hand to comfort her, she grabbed at her chest with both hands.

     “Agh!” Anna cried, but the sound was little more than a hollow pop as her mouth opened. She moved her hands up to her throat, then back to her diaphragm in a desperate motion.

     “Anna! What’s wrong!” Lore darted to her and pressed his hands to the sides of her neck just as she fell forward, her throat seizing in desperate gasps for air. She couldn’t breathe. Something was horrible wrong!

     “Call Crusher!” He shouted to anyone who could hear. Anna stumbled forward, her hands grasping in the kind of mindless panic that comes from a loss of air. She pressed desperately on the area of her diaphragm, but it did not appear to be doing anything. Finally, she produced a weak cough and a stream of blood colored her lips.

     “Damnit!” Crusher flew into the room, Troi and Riker fast on her heels. She rushed to Anna just as Lore lowered her to the deck.

     “What’s wrong with her?” He demanded.

     “Shut up!” Crusher seethed. She pressed her combadge, “Crusher to sickbay, transport Lt. Hall to the respirator setup now! Start emergency procedure two! I’m on my way!”

     Lore stood back as a heavy sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. His perfect reunion was turning into a nightmare, and he had no explanation for it. He was about to lean down again, but Anna vanished in the transporter beam like a ghost.

     Crusher stood and ran both hands through her hair, trying to catch her breath.

     “What’s wrong with her?” Lore demanded again, “Why couldn’t she breathe?”

     “You just don’t listen, do you!” She spat, too angry to be calm, “I told you to wait! She can’t handle this kind of shock. You could have killed her, you son of a bitch!”

     He darted his eyes to Riker and Troi. Riker was staring at him with the same hot rage as Crusher. Only Troi seemed to be more subdued; her brow was knitted in worry.

     “Lore, _please._ ” Troi implored, “You need to let me explain some things to you. Now. Anna will be alright. The doctors know how to tend to you.”

     “Know how….” He repeated her words lifelessly. What did that mean? How long had she been…ill?

     “Blake! Have you lost your damn mind!” Came LaForge’s angry voice from the corridor, “I’ll have you sent to sickbay if—.” LaForge and Blake stopped at the main door, LaForge’s sleeve firmly twisted into Blake’s pulling hand. LaForge looked at Lore, blinked, then looked again. His jaw clenched tight, “Figures.”

     Lore did not even both to acknowledge the man as he continued to fix his attention on Troi. She said she wanted to explain things, but she had already admitted that she was ignorant of the message she had sent. It was clear that she knew nothing about why Data had called him back. He had a sick feeling that everything going on—the _Enterprise’s_ near destruction, the message, Anna’s apparent medical condition—was all connected. He took a cautious step back and looked at each of them in turn.

     “Where is Data?”

     Looks were exchanged, but no answers given. Troi stepped forward, “Lore, come with me now.”

     “Where is Data?” He said again, his voice catching slightly. His imagination was starting to fill in the blanks, the possible explanations, but they didn’t make sense. They _couldn’t_.

     “Come with me to see the Captain.” Troi continued, “We need to—.”

     “Where is Data!” He shouted. His voice was nothing but fury, as if asking the question more harshly would yield some good result. He knew it would not. He could see from the looks on their faces what was to come.

     Troi dropped her hands to her sides, defeated. “He’s dead, Lore. He’s gone.”

     Everything stopped. His breathing, his blinking, even his emotions stilled, and for several long seconds Lore felt nothing. Data was dead. Dead.

     _No._

“You don’t know that for sure.” He said suddenly, “You won’t ever know our systems as well as I do. Let me examine him. Maybe—.”

    “There’s nothing to examine.” LaForge said. His voice was ruefully cold, “He’s gone.”

    _Gone._ The word held so much, and Lore knew instantly what they were saying. Data had been destroyed, somehow, somewhere, and he was no more. Lore’s numbness suddenly dropped out, and he could feel…what? The people in the room continued to stare at him, and Lore suddenly got the uncharitable impression that he was being scrutinized. He shoved the unexplainable feeling aside and replaced it what he was comfortable with. Rage.

     “Who?” He demanded.

     Riker shook his head slowly, “It doesn’t matter.”

     “Oh, it _matters._ ” Lore said through clenched teeth, “Who. Killed. Him?”

     “The other ship was destroyed with all crew.” Riker leaned his hands on the control table now, his posture showing all his stress and irritation, “Data gave his life to destroy that ship and save the rest of us. All of us.”

     Lore took a step back. The rage was dissipating and that _other_ feeling was rearing its head again. It was so….Why did he suddenly feel so nervous? Why did his eyes feel heavier than their usual weight? With seemingly no concern for the people around him, he muttered, “I’m alone.”

     Troi cringed, “Well…not exactly.”

     Lore looked at her just as the intruder alert sounded. The room spiraled into an echo chamber of warning claxons and flashing lights. Lore darted toward the entrance, for he was in no mood to be arrested, but it was too late. A full security contingent spilled into the room, phaser rifles trained. Only, these security guards were not wearing Starfleet colors. They sported gun-metal gray uniforms, outlined in black, and Lore discerned the emblem on their arms as that of the THD—Terrain Home Defense.

     _Shit._

     Riker tapped his badge, “Cancel the intruder alert! Stand down.”

     One of the guards stepped forward, his posture not at all eased, “I’m sorry, Captain Riker, but this isn’t a Starfleet matter. The station is under Terrain jurisdiction, and this man is trespassing.”

     Lore scoffed, “You had better have that phaser set higher than stun.”

     “Lore, shut up!” Riker belted.

     “Lore?” The mention of the name sent a spasm through the guard’s arm, causing him to lower his weapon slightly. He looked back at Lore, examining him closely, “Oh, my God.”

     “I appreciate the promotion, but _Lore_ will do just fine.” He sneered back.

      The man raised his weapon again, determined, “You’re under arrest from trespassing and illegal entry into a controlled Federation system.”

      Lore was ready with another snide comment, but stopped. The man was serious, deathly serious. As the guards behind him expertly raised the settings on their rifles, Lore realized that they were damn serious as well.  


	18. Chapter 18

 

**_“Welcome to Earth.”_ **

     At first, the entire arrest scenario had been mildly amusing. The guards had produced handcuffs out of habit, which they had put away quickly once the stupidity of the idea became apparent. This had been followed up by a nervous standoff during which Lore actually worried that one of them would panic and fire on him by mistake. Eventually, he had narrowed his eyes in disgust and simply told them to transport him to their ridiculous brig so that the whole charade could be done with.

     That had been seven hours ago, and Lore was no longer amused.  

     He stood up from the bunk and crossed the small space until his nose was inches from the invisible force field, “You have five minutes to let me out of here or I am going to let myself out.”

     The two young guards, one Starfleet and the other Terrain Home Defense, exchanged worried glances.

     “Eh…I’m not sure what they’re doing.” The Starfleet guard croaked, “I think Captain Picard has been talking to the THD chief. They aren’t sure yet about all the charges against you—.”

     “I don’t care.” Lore sneered.

     The man swallowed hard and his hand moved somewhat anxiously to the phaser on his hip, “I would _guess_ it wouldn’t be much longer.”

     “You have four minutes and twenty-eight seconds.” Lore replied. Considering that he was in absolutely no mood for this crap, he thought five minutes was being terribly generous. Since he had unceremoniously been transported to the station brig he had been unable to speak to a soul. No one came to give him further explanation about Data, about the message he had received. No one even came to tell him how Anna was doing, which was his primary concern at the moment. The only thing that had been keeping him in the ridiculous cell for any length of time was the fact that he needed to be able to move around the station legally for the sake of Anna. He needed to explain things to her, quickly. He could only imagine how upset she probably was, and he would hardly be able to spend time with her or speak to her if he was running from station security!

     As his thoughts worried over Anna, he could not help but acknowledge, in spurts and sudden images, that Data was gone. He had not been prepared for that, and now he simply did not know how to react. He felt the urge to suppress the entire thing, to prioritize what he had to worry about at the moment and think about Data later.

     _I’m alone._

     The thought was, quite frankly, startling. He had always thought of himself as being alone, for certain, but somewhere in the back of his mind he had always known that he was not the _only_ one of his kind. Data was always there. Despite how he had hated him, and even how they had never really become friends, he was still… _like_ him. Data was still his brother.

     There was no point in thinking about it. Nothing could be done. He opened his eyes and forced himself to focus on what he could control.

     “I want out of here. _Now_.”

     “I’ll, eh…” The Starfleet guard looked at the nearby door, “I’ll see if I can’t call the chief’s office and see what’s going on.”

     The THD guard snorted dismissively and crossed his arms over his chest, “Relax. He can’t get out of there.”

     “You think so?” Lore said, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

     “Yeah.” The guard replied boldly, though he was not looking at Lore, “If you could get out of there, you would have done it right away.”

     Lore turned his head to the left and looked at the wall just beside the force-field shielded entrance. He could hear the near silent buzz of the main field projector just behind it. He slammed his hand against the smooth wall, cutting into the soft metal with his straightened fingers. In one motion he grabbed the end of the projector and yanked it out of the wall, slinging the object back into the room behind him.

     The field died with barely a sputter.

     “Shit! Shit!” The Starfleet guard cried as he fumbled to remove his phaser from his hip. The THD guard already had his phaser rifle raised, but Lore did not move an inch. He merely stood where he was, hands hung at his sides.

     “You now have three minutes and forty-one seconds.” Lore said with a smile, “I would _really_ prefer to leave this room legally. I have things to do.”

     “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you!” The THD guard shouted.

     Lore rolled his eyes, though his unease was real. He seriously doubted that phaser rifle was on a low setting. Luckily, it was at that moment that the large double doors to the right of the room opened and a cadre of people entered. Picard, Geordi, and two men that Lore did not know stopped in their tracks as they took in the scene.

     “He destroyed the field projector, Sir!” The Starfleet guard declared.

     Picard raised a staying hand, “Lower your weapons, both of you.”

     “Well, at least someone around here has some faith in me.” Lore said, “Did you miss me, Picard?”

     Jean-Luc Picard took several steps toward the brig. His expression remained a granite mask.

     Lore sighed, “I guess not.”

     “Explain yourself.” Picard demanded.

     “Explain _myself_?” Lore retorted, “How obvious does this have to be, Picard? I didn’t die. I faked it. Data helped me.”

     “Why?”

     Lore turned away from him now, “That’s none of your concern.”

     “The hell it’s not.” Picard said coldly, “Why did Data help you do this?”

     “Oh!” Lore laughed harshly, bitterly, “You want to know why Data helped me. Silly me, I thought you wanted to know why I decided to leave. Well, I will answer _your_ question. Data helped me because he understood my reasoning. He understood it was important.”

     “That _what_ was important?”

     “ _That_ is what is none of your business. I have some questions of my own, _Captain,_ and I doubt you will know the answers to them. So, I demand to be released from here.”

     Picard cast a withering glance at the discarded shield projector at the back of Lore’s cell, “Apparently, you need no help with that.”

     Lore clenched his jaw. Picard knew damn well who Lore wanted to see, and he certainly knew that seeing her would be impossible if he broke out of the brig. He _did_ need Picard’s help.

     “I won’t leave the station.” Lore said, trying to sound somewhat contrite, “I’ll answer your ridiculous charges later, but I have to get out of here now.”

     One of the men standing behind Picard stepped forward. He was in his fifties with thick graying black hair and a hard, time weary continence. He wore a THD uniform. “You aren’t doing anything until you answer some questions. First, how did you get into the system undetected? Which vessel did you stow away on?”

     Lore stifled a laugh just barely, but the result was less than stealthy, “Stow away? I take it you haven’t discovered my vessel, then?”

     The man’s eyes widened, “You snuck a vessel past the grid? That’s impossible!”

     “Maybe for you.” Lore snorted, “Look, I don’t care about your little border trespassing laws. I’ll tell you where my vessel is, but I am leaving this brig now.” He stepped over the lip of the brig entrance and was immediately met with raised rifles.

     Picard made an audible groan, “General, this is entirely unnecessary and is only going to complicate things. The weapons are unnecessary.”

     “Aw. I knew you liked me.” Lore smirked.

     Picard shot him an angry look and held up his hand, “You have plenty of time to speak to the authorities, Lore. Lt. Hall won’t be out of recovery for another three hours.”

     Lore’s battle-ready demeanor dropped and a flash of sincere worry overtook his features, “What happened to her?”

     Picard frowned, “She was injured during the _Enterprise_ collision. She had to undergo a double lung transplant only several weeks ago and she has not yet fully recovered.”

     Lore’s expression went from worried to devastated, “I want to go to sickbay now. Ask your damned questions later!”

     The General shook his head and took a step back as his guards once more raised their weapons, “Sir,” The General said, addressing Lore, “You have been placed under arrest, and you _will_ provide a statement explaining yourself before anything else happens. You may be able to break out of that brig, or any brig, but that’s only if you’re conscious, and we can rectify that immediately.”

     Several of the rifles snapped to attention.

     Pure fury raged through Lore’s arms, causing him to clench his fists at his sides, but he was no fool. He was trapped, and he knew it. Depending on how high those rifles were set, being rendered unconscious might be the least of his worries. They could cause him some severe damage, and if that happened who would see to him? Data was gone and Geordi and Crusher had limited knowledge. Only Bruce Maddox—.

     Lore took a step back, suddenly alarmed, “Fine. I’ll provide your _precious_ statement. Do you always show this much force for mere trespassers?”

     The General shook his head humorlessly, “No, just the mass murdering ones.”

     _Fuck you._

***

 

     An hour later and Lore had described in technical detail the manner of his vessel’s entry to the solar system. He had explained, in a bit less detail, how he had managed to escape the destroyed Ohniaka III outpost by taking one of the unused escape pods that had survived the original bombardment years ago. Finally, he had admitted, much to the outrage of everyone present, that his cloaked vessel was docked with one of the station’s under-construction airlocks.

     Lore surveyed the room with a growing sense of irritation. In the seven hours during which he had been locked up, it appeared that every manner of useless government bureaucrat had been assembled to _deal with_ his sudden reappearance. At the long table before him sat representatives from Terrain Home Defense, Starfleet, the Federation judiciary, and a few others whose purpose he could not discern. And he didn’t give a shit, either.

     “You do realize that falsifying your own death is a crime, Mr. Soong?” Said an older, grey haired woman sporting admiral’s stripes.

     Lore snorted, “No it isn’t. And stop calling me that.”

     “Excuse me?” She demanded. Her voice dripped with the typical self induced outrage of those who were used to deference. “Do you deny it?”

     “Faking a death is not illegal. Falsifying documents _in order_ to fake a death is illegal.” Lore tossed back, “You won’t find my metaphorical finger prints on any document.”

     The woman’s pasty complexion took on some color, “I’ll think you’ll find that is not quite the case.”

     “I think I’ll find that _you_ will find a way for that to not be the case.” He laughed bitterly, “You people are just determined to find some reason to pull me apart. Literally.”

     She turned to the THD representative, whom Lore now knew as General Cross, and said, “I want his vessel impounded immediately and its contents catalogued.”

     Lore laughed under his breath.

     “Something to add, Mr. Soong?” The Admiral asked.

     “Nothing.” He said brightly. Too brightly. Picard sighed and rested his elbows on the table. He sat at the very end, almost as if the rest of the assembly did not consider him necessary.

     “What, Lore?” Picard demanded.

     Lore leaned back in his seat, “I really wouldn’t recommend you send anyone to force entry aboard my ship. It won’t end well.”

     The rest of the panel looked either alarmed or confused. Only Picard gave off an air of resigned irritation.

      “What security measures do you have?” Picard asked.

      Lore laughed again. It was all he could do to cover his growing anger and frustration. He leaned forward and smiled, “Oh, Captain, what security measures _don’t_ I have? If I can enter this system undetected, I think I can protect my vessel from intruders.”

      “You _will_ provide access to your vessel.” General Cross demanded, “Including a full outline of its weapons systems.”

      Lore glared at the man. This was ridiculous. “Why are you so interested in my weapons systems? I came here for personal reasons, and certainly not to harm to anyone.”

      “We don’t know that.” Cross fired back.

      “Troi?” Lore said.

      Deanna Troi sighed from her seat at the back of the room, several rows behind Lore, “Admiral, General, Lore is telling the truth.”

      The Admiral shifted in her seat, and did not look at all pleased, “How would you know that, Counselor Troi?”

      Lore closed his eyes and muttered something. The only word Troi caught was _idiots._

     “I can sense Lore’s emotions and moods, including signs of deception. Just as I can with anyone else.” Troi replied.

     This was obviously news—unwelcome news—to several people on the panel. General Cross leaned forward.

     “Be that as it may, I am not comfortable with him having access to a vessel and weapons. I highly recommend—.”

     “The last person who knowingly crossed the system sensor net was issued a warning and a week’s impoundment on his vessel after it was searched.” Picard said suddenly. All eyes in the room went to him, including Lore’s. Picard sat still, his eyes seemingly distant. He looked angry but somehow determined. Lore could not quite understand it.

     “I’m sorry, Captain?” The Admiral pressed, “What does that have to do with anything?”

     Picard seemed to take a deep breath, but never was his steely exterior as firm, “Lore was excused by the Federation judiciary for his past crimes, considering the extenuating circumstances, of which you are all aware. As such, nothing about that past can or should be used against him. I bring up the last border crossing only to illustrate what would be an appropriate punishment.”

     The Admiral’s jaw worked angrily, but it was nothing compared to the outright glare that General Cross fired in Picard’s direction. Picard saw it, but did not appear at all put out. Picard was not the kind of man to be shaken.

     “I hardly think that case law would be appropriate here, Captain.” The Admiral went on, almost dismissively. “Considering Lore’s…unique situation.”

     Lore frowned angrily. There it was. He was not human, and as such there was no way in hell they were going to treat him like everyone else. He gripped the arm of his chair and covertly prepared to stand. If he had to kidnap Anna and escape on his vessel, he would do it—.

     “Forgive me, Admiral, but…I don’t think so.” Said a small, pale man from the end of the table. He was one of the Federation judiciary representatives who had as yet said nothing. He was clearly a civilian, judging from his clothes, and had no qualms about contradicting the Admiral. The man cleared his throat, “I can cite here no fewer than thirty such incidents in which people who illegally crossed the sensor net without declaring themselves were given little more than citations and restrictions on vessel movement. The case law is quite substantial. I really can’t justify treating this case any differently. Pending a vessel search, of course.”

      General Cross sneered openly and dropped his hands to the table, while the Admiral’s disapproval was more covert. She glared at the man, then turned to share the scathing look with Picard. Picard met it evenly.

      It was an understatement to say that Lore was surprised. He hardly would have expected Picard to say anything in his favor, let alone appear to be in his camp! He was actually curious as to why Picard would bother.

      The Admiral swallowed hard and glared at Lore, “I want you to provide access to your vessel _immediately_ for a legal search. Then, you will register your ship with the docking authority and are hereby restricted from moving the vessel for one—two weeks. In addition, I want all of the weapons systems aboard your vessel disabled.”

      Lore reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and removed a data pad. His fingers flew over the surface for a few seconds while everyone watched, either confused or worried. A beep sounded from the pad and Lore rose to his feet.

      “There. Be my guest.” He sneered, shoving the pad back into his pocket. He turned and headed for the door.

      “Where are you going!” The Admiral demanded.

      “To sickbay. I don’t _feel_ well.” Lore retorted. He stopped when he came to Troi’s side, for she was looking at him with a very serious expression. She opened her mouth, but Lore cut her off, “Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it now.”

     She sighed, “You have to eventually.”

     The room was beginning to break up, but people were still watching him intently. Picard stepped down from the panel table and walked in their direction, along with Geordi. Considering what had just happened, and how much worse it all could have been, Lore almost thanked Picard. Almost.

     “Lore, we need to talk.” Picard said seriously.

     “How many more times am I going to hear that sentence today?” Lore said, “You already told me my brother is dead, that Hall almost died. What other gems do you have for me?”

     Picard took a deep breath, ready to speak, but Troi suddenly shook her head. She rested her hand on Lore’s arm.

     “Go to sickbay, Lore. I’ll tell you later.” She said. She gave Picard and Geordi meaningful looks, which they apparently did not object to.

     “Thank you!” Lore declared, turning back toward the door. Whatever it was now, he really did not care, and he didn’t _want_ to care. He was focused on seeing Anna and nothing else was going to compete with that. He went through the open door, pressing past some of the other people leaving the room, and turned left. He already knew the station’s layout.

     “Lore, I think you should go the other way, though the lower decks.” Troi said as she walked up behind him.

     “Why?” Lore muttered just as he reached the door that would lead to the main promenade. He pressed the panel, opening the door, and was immediately met with a wall of shouting people. Flashing lights snapped like a strobe as people raised their hands and pressed forward.

     “Lore! Why did you fake your death?” One man shouted.

     “Where have you been?” Cried another.

     “Do you have anything to say to the Ohniaka III families!”

     Lore stepped back, almost stumbling, and slammed his hand against the panel. The door hissed shut, cutting off the shouts and flashing lights.

     “What the _hell_ was that?” He demanded, reeling around. “Who are those people?”

     Geordi shook his head slowly, “ _That_ was the press, Lore. Welcome to Earth.”

    

    

    

    


	19. Chapter 19

**_“You did what?”_ **

     She knew she was in sickbay the moment she opened her eyes. It was like a second home to her now. She was there so often—sometimes without warning—that the very smell of the room was instantly familiar. She hesitated a moment before she very slowly drew a deep breath. It worked. Easily, in fact, and she knew that Dr. Crusher must have given her a hearty dose of the respiratory stimulant that had kept her going in those first few terrible weeks. It was a dangerous crutch, as Crusher always reminded her, but it was the only thing that made her feel normal again. Actually, one of the nice side effects of the respiratory stimulant was that it made her feel strong, very strong, if only for a short while.

     She gasped and clenched her eyes shut as reality finally settled on her. Had it happened? Was she finally losing her mind and beginning to dream while she was awake? If that was the case, it was over. They could drum her out of Starfleet and she would spend the next few months wallowing in her old bedroom at her parents’ house until she figured out what to do with herself.

     She waited until her eyes were fully adjusted to the light, then turned over and sat up. Crusher was already standing there, a hypospray in her hand.

     “Take a deep breath.” She instructed as she tilted the hypo and pressed it to Anna’s neck. It hissed and a sudden, almost twitchy high went through Anna’s limbs.

     “Whoa.” Anna shuddered, “You’re giving me more?”

     Crusher frowned, “I don’t want to, believe me. But, I’m worried you might need it.”

     Anna stared at Crusher, trying to make eye contact, but it seemed as if she were purposefully avoiding it. _Did it happen? Was it real?_ Anna wanted to burst forth with the questions, but she had no desire to sound crazy. Instead, she just leveled Crusher with a near pitiful look that begged explanation.

     Crusher cleared her throat and consulted her tricorder, “Lore will probably be here soon, once he’s out of the brig.”

     _It’s true! Dear God, it’s true!_

     “Brig?” Anna sputtered, “Why is he in the brig?”

     “They arrested him for trespassing and no doubt a litany of others things.” Crusher replied. The woman looked uneasy. Finally, she faced Anna directly, “Anna, did you know about this?”

     “Know about what?” Anna said, shaking her head. Did she know that Lore was alive? Did she know that he had somehow survived the blast on Ohniaka III? Of course not! Would she have just stood by all this time if she had?

     “No.” Anna continued, “What happened? How did he survive the outpost?”

     Crusher looked down and appeared to be shifting her eyes in an uneasy fashion, “Anna, he….He’ll be here soon, no doubt, and you can get your answers from him.”

     “You don’t know?” Anna pressed, “He hasn’t spoken to anyone about it?”

     “He should tell you everything.” Crusher replied, “Look, you really need to take it easy. You burst quite a few capillaries and the hyperventilation almost caused you to go into a seizure.”

     “I was surprised.” Anna said, pressing her lips against a wide grin. She was beginning to feel a little ridiculously giddy, a sensation that was no doubt heightened by the respiratory stimulant rushing through her veins. She tried to suppress her sudden joy only because she knew how much Crusher disliked Lore—still disliked him—and it made the whole situation a little funny.

     Crusher moved back to her office, leaving Anna sitting upright on the bio-bed. Anna watched her go and could not help but be a little disappointed. Crusher did not like Lore, she knew, but why was she acting so uneasy? Surely she could at least be happy for _her._ Very slowly, she began to suspect that something else was going on. Crusher would never be upset over someone _not_ being dead; she wasn’t like that.

     She turned her attention to the entrance at the right side of the room. Any moment…. She closed her eyes a bit and tried to relive the moments in engineering just before her lungs had seized and the world had fallen apart. He looked different. His eye and skin color were changed, and she could not help but laugh to imagine how he might have been forced to blend in over the past two years. But, blend in where? And why for so long? She looked toward the exit with growing anticipation. Maybe she could go to the brig and see him….

     “Dr. Crusher is taking you off duty for the next thirty-six hours.”

     Anna barely registered the low Australian accent speaking right beside her. She looked up and saw Owen looking down at her. His expression was nearly as awkward and shifty as Crusher’s, though in a much more profound way. He gave her a weak smile.

     “What? Oh, that’s fine.” Anna said distractedly as she continued to watch the entrance. She didn’t care if she was off duty for a day. Hell! She didn’t care if she was off duty for the next month!

     Anna was too absorbed to notice the progressively low look on Owen’s face. He too glanced at the entrance and his shoulders visibly sank. “Ok. Well…I’ll leave you to rest then.”

     “Thanks.” Anna mumbled. It wasn’t until he had left her side, after several hesitant moments, that Anna finally came to her senses and looked in the direction of the office he had just entered. Her stomach flipped with guilty butterflies.

     _Oh, no…._

     But she could not allow herself to think on that right now. She refused. Anna leaned back on the bio-bed with her eyes toward the entrance. Despite the drugs Crusher had so reluctantly given her, she soon fell into a light sleep.

 

***

 

     “Hello.”

     Lore watched as Anna’s eyes fluttered for just a second before flying open. She pushed herself to a sitting position and instantly reached her arms up to wrap them around his neck.

     “I can’t believe you’re here! I thought I might have been hallucinating!” She gasped, her voice cracking into a joyful laugh as she gripped him tighter.

     Lore laughed as he tilted his face forward and kissed the side of her neck. He could not help himself as he drew a deep breath against her hair. _Sunflowers._

 “It’s no hallucination. Are you all right?” He felt her give him another tight hug before she pulled back enough to see his face. Her cheeks were flushed and raised up by the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, despite the happy tears threatening to fall at any moment.

     “Yes. That’s fine. I’m fine.” She said quickly, “I was just startled when I saw you, I guess.”

     “Apparently.” He said, giving her a playful smile. It was bitter-sweet, though, and he brushed his fingers over her cheek a little sadly, “I’m sorry, Anna. If I had known that you were ill, I would have found a far less…mmm…theatrical way of seeing you.”

     Lore glanced around the room briefly and was quite thankful that there was no one around. No doubt Crusher was making a point of leaving them alone for a moment, for which he was silently grateful. He took her face in his hands and gave her a gentle kiss. He pulled back an inch, “I missed you.”

     “I missed you too.” She continued to smile up at him, amazed. Finally she said, “And I’m glad that at least your kiss is still the same.”

     Lore gave her confused look just as she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair and made a sour face. He laughed. “Oh. You don’t like my new look?”

     She frowned and shook her head, “Not at all.”

     “Then I’ll be sure to revert it immediately, _Lieutenant_. I wouldn’t want to be out of your favor.” He said with a smile. He kissed her again and wondered how much longer Crusher wanted her to stay in sickbay. He wanted to talk to her about everything that had happened, about the _Enterprise_ collision and Data’s death. No doubt she would have some questions about his motives for leaving, but she did not appear to be angry, which was an immense relief.

     Anna pulled back but left her hands on his arms. Her expression became thoughtful all of a sudden, “So, what happened?”

     Lore lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. It was impossible not to touch her. “Happened with what?” He muttered.

     “The outpost.” She said, “How did you survive the explosion Reed set? How long were you stranded on the surface?”

     Lore’s smile fell almost immediately. She didn’t know. Worst still, she had not guessed. “No one spoke to you?” He asked, “Crusher didn’t explain anything?”

     Anna shook her head, “No. I don’t understand why the Enterprise didn’t find you. We did so many scans, and when they didn’t find anything I begged Data to redo them.” Her voice was beginning to catch a little, “Lore, I…I _knew_ something was wrong, and I was right!”

     Lore’s heart sank. A mental image of Anna pleading with Data to keep searching for him was a sudden blight on his happiness, and for more reasons than one. Data had lied for him, repeatedly, and no doubt with much anguish. And he could never thank him for it. Thanking seemed a mute point though, as he was now beginning to believe that the whole thing had been a horrible mistake.

     He closed his eyes for a moment before he forced himself to meet hers, “Anna, Reed did not rig the destruction of the outpost. I did.”

     Anna was still for a few seconds, trying to absorb what he had said. Lore watched nervously.

     “W—wait a minute. You did what?” She laughed a little, as if she could not accept that what he was saying was serious, “Why?”

     He gripped her hand, sorry that he was going to have to hurt her, but he was certain her anger would pass. After all, Anna would understand his reasoning. He was sure of it.

     “I didn’t want you to be hurt anymore. I was convinced that Reed was just the first, and if I stayed someone else would eventually try to hurt me through you. I asked Data to help me, and he tried to—.”

     “You….” He words caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard as she suddenly pulled her hand out of his, “You _staged_ your death? Data helped you?”

     Lore looked on with growing worry as her cheeks began to turn red and her expression hardened. “Anna, I’m sorry.” He said, “It was a horrible mistake because I should have known I wouldn’t be able to go through with it for long. Troi’s message was an excuse for me to come back, but I would have eventually. I’m sure of that now.”

     “Troi!” Anna cried suddenly, pressing her fists to the sides of her head, “Troi knew too!”

     “No.” He said, “Data left a message for me, to be sent if anything happened to him. Troi sent the message. Anna, please understand why I did it. I was trying to look after you.”

     Anna covered her face with both hands, and for a moment Lore thought she was crying. But when she finally looked up again she glared at him with angry, hurt eyes. “How could you? How could you do this to me?”

     He struggled to find words that would make her understand, make her accept his reasoning. Instead, he said perhaps the worst thing he could have, “Anna, it was for your own good.”

     “My own good!” Anna cried. She pushed at him, forcing him away from the bio-bed as she hopped down and ran to the other side, putting the object between them. She leaned over the bed, still pressing her hands to her temples, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? How much I _cried_ for you!”

     Lore was struck silent. This wasn’t going well. This wasn’t going well at all. He grew increasingly worried as her anger only seemed to grow with each passing second. Not knowing what else to do or say, he reached across the bed to take her hand, and was shocked when she roughly pulled it away.

     “Get away from me!” She cried.

     _What?_ “Anna, please—.”

     “My own good?” She continued to shout, “ _You_ decided what was for _my_ good! You—you—you asshole!”

     Lore took a step back as if she had actually struck him. He had expected she would be upset, but nothing like this. He was at a loss. What could he say that he had not said already?

     “People were mistreating you, Anna.” He countered, “I thought you would be better off without me. I still think that, but I’m too selfish to stay away.”

     Anna’s eyes widened with outrage. She opened her mouth to say something else, but smothered it when she pressed her palms over her eyes again. She was starting to shake either with rage or agony, Lore could not tell which. Finally, she looked up, her face marred with drying tears.

     “I thought I could trust you.”

     _Oh!_ “You can trust me!”

     “Until you decide I’m better off without you, right?” She shot back. She pressed a hand to the center of her chest and breathed hard, “Lore….Get out.”

     “What? Anna—.”

     “Leave! I don’t want to see you! I can’t _believe_ you did this to me! I can’t believe Data helped you!” She clenched her teeth together and groaned, “Oh, God! I’m so stupid! It makes _perfect_ sense now. I asked Data over and over why you went back down there, and he _never_ answered me. I should have known then!”  

     _No. No!_ Lore moved to go around the bio-bed, but Anna turned away from him and fled to the office at the back of the room. The door closed behind her, and Lore did not have to guess that she had locked it. Another door at the other side of the room opened and Crusher rushed out. She did not say anything, but only looked at him. She had no doubt heard everything.

     “Today should be a wonderful day for you, Doc!” Lore said bitterly. He pressed his hand to the office door for a moment, but did not entertain the idea of going in. He hoped that all she needed was some time to see his reasoning, but her words! _I cried for you_. That was almost more than he could bear, though he could not delude himself into thinking she would not have. He had known that all along.

     Crusher shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, “As much as this may surprise you, Lore, I never rooted against you.”

     Lore turned away from the door and headed toward the exit. He refused to allow his heart to completely sink, for he knew—he _had_ to believe—that Anna was just angry and would come around soon. Of course she would. She loved him!

     “Where are you going now?” Crusher asked cautiously.

     Lore gave her an angry look, “I’m going to get some answers, if that’s even possible. Care to join me?”

     Her eyes narrowed in surprise.

     “Oh, I’m sorry.” He continued sarcastically, “I thought we were friends now, since you just lied to me in a pathetic attempt to spare my feelings.”

     “I was not lying.” She countered, “You may not be my favorite person, Lore, but I never rooted against you.”

     “Whatever you say.” He sneered. “Where is Troi? She said she had something else to tell me. As if I need something else!”

     “Ah.” Crusher nodded.

     “You know what it is?” He said, “Well, isn’t that nice? I guess I’m the only one in the dark around here.”

     “Troi’s waiting for you in the observation lounge. I’ll take you there.”

     “I don’t need a babysitter.” He barked.

     “Just shut up and come on.” Crusher sighed.

     Lore followed her, reluctantly, toward the exit. Just as they reached it, he could not help but look back at the office door behind him. Anna had been angry with him before. She had refused to speak to him before, but she always forgave him. That was some solace, and he latched onto it in a kind of hopeful desperation. A few hours, maybe a few days, and everything would be okay. Right?

     _Right._

_***_

     Crusher quickly looked around the promenade and was immensely relieved when she didn’t see any members of the press. They were usually easy to spot, though she knew that some of them could be quite tricky, and were not above hiding in plain sight. Like everyone who spent most of their careers on Starships, Crusher had been hard pressed to acclimate herself to the non-stop media frenzy atmosphere of Earth. There was simply no place like Earth.

     “What happened to Anna?”

     Crusher looked up at Lore’s sharp question, which he asked without looking at her. As irritated as she was, she could tell that he was genuinely worried. She sighed, “She was in torpedo bay two trying to keep the weapons online. When the collision happened, we think the force field generator at the end of the launch tube was destroyed. There was sudden decompression in the room and….I suppose she panicked, forgot her training. She didn’t blow all of the air out of her lungs, she held her breath. Her left lung burst and her right suffered severe circulatory damage.”

     Lore stopped in his tracks and starred at her. The look on his face was….Well, Crusher had never thought she would see a look like that on his face. He looked like he was in pain.

     “How did she make it?” Lore asked quietly. They were standing practically in the middle of the promenade gallery, but no one appeared to be giving them much notice.

     Crusher rubbed two fingers against her temple. Technically, she was not supposed discuss patients’ medical histories without their consent, but she could not ignore this situation. The desperation in Lore’s eyes, and the sheer novelty of that look in him pushed her beyond her professional ethics.

     “Her lungs were completely shot. If Briggs hadn’t managed to set an emergency field and get in there as quickly as he did, we wouldn’t have been able to do anything.” She sighed, “There was a method I read about, using holograms. We were able to program a set of holographic lungs and set them into her chest cavity, but in order for it to work we had to make sure that she couldn’t move at all. I had to paralyze her.”

     Lore drew a deep breath, and his pained look only seemed to intensify, “But, organ transplants are simple operations. Why is she still ill?”

     “Her physiology. She’s half human, half El’Aurian, and it caused complications. She would have rejected standard organ replication. We had to grow a new set of lungs for her from her own stem cells, and the lungs are still young and weak. It took….Well, it took some time.”

     “How long?” He demanded.

     “Two weeks.”

     “What!” Lore clenched his jaw like a vice and looked away from her, “She was paralyzed for two weeks?”

     “She made it through, Lore. She’s damned lucky.” Crusher looked away from him then, for even though she was breaking every rule of doctor-patient confidentiality already, she could not tell him about those two weeks. She could not tell him about Anna’s delirious screams and the things she had said, the things she had begged for. A shiver went up Crusher’s spine as she remembered. She had never spoken to Anna about them, and she hoped desperately that she did not remember any of it.

     “You saved her life.” Lore said, “Thank you.”

     Crusher nodded silently. She looked out over the promenade and continued walking. It was the middle of the day and the gallery was busy at the lunch hour. Against the opposing wall from the promenade café was the large corridor that led to the _Enterprise_ airlock. The shift change was on, and a large number of people were coming and going through the passage. Crusher surveyed the crowd to see if Geordi or Worf might be among them when she spotted a white face near the entrance. Crusher gasped as she recognized B-4. He appeared to be hesitating at the corridor entrance, his eyes looking over the promenade in wonder.

     _Shit._ B-4 knew that he was not supposed to be on the station, not after Maddox’s little hissy fit. She wondered just what the hell he was doing, but could not do anything about it at the moment. As if deciding that the promenade no longer interested him, B-4 suddenly turned away and began to walk back through the corridor toward the _Enterprise._

     “Data?” Lore’s voice rang out as his eyes focused on the corridor ahead. He had seen him.

    “No, Lore. Stay here.” Crusher said quickly, trying to block his path.

     “Data!” Lore shouted. He turned angry eyes onto Crusher, “You lied to me. Why would everyone lie to me!”

     “You don’t understand!” Crusher shouted, but it was no use. Lore was already around her and running in the direction of the corridor. He pressed against the wall to get past people without shoving them aside, Crusher desperate to maintain a distance behind him. She had no idea what his reaction would be. No one knew anything about Lore’s relationship with B-4, or if there even was one. Would he even know him?

     “Lore, wait!” She shouted.

     “Data, stop!” Lore said a final time as he reached B-4 and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Data, why would you—.” Lore gasped and took a step back.

     Crusher stood frozen a few feet behind Lore, looking on the scene in useless trepidation. She had no idea what was going to happen, but she certainly did not expect what happened next.

     “Bee?” Lore gasped. He narrowed his eyes and seemed to examine B-4’s face very closely.

     “Hello, Lore.” B-4 said brightly, “How have you been?”

     Lore’s expression was frozen for several long seconds before it finally cracked.

     “Bee!” Lore’s voice broke in a sudden, almost hysterical laugh. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around B-4 in a hug that would have killed anyone else instantly. “How did you get here!”

     B-4 smiled happily as Lore finally released him, “I walked from my quarters to the turbo lift, then instructed the turbo lift to take me to deck six, then walked—.”

     “You haven’t even changed!” Lore shouted. He looked as if he were about to hug B-4 again, but seemed to collect himself quickly. He turned his eyes to the ceiling, closed them for a moment, then turned to Crusher. “Where did he come from? How did you find him?”

     “It’s a long story.” Crusher said, shaking her head in shock. This was not at all what she would have expected. The look of sheer joy on Lore’s face was something she would have expected from anyone else, but not him. She forced herself to continue, “And I doubt you’re going believe it without proof, which Troi has. In the observation room. Now, would you _please_ come with me.”

     Lore turned to B-4, still shaking his head in a most wild kind of wonder. “We were never able to find you, Bee. We searched for as long as we could, but—.” Lore suddenly stopped talking as he glanced quickly at Crusher.

     She looked from Lore to B-4 and back again. Lore had questions, but so did they, and it appeared that Lore knew more about B-4’s past than any of them did.

     Lore shook his head and turned back to B-4. He motioned with his hand, “Come on. Let’s go see Troi.”

     B-4 did not move, “I am sorry, Lore. I am not allowed aboard the station.”

     Lore frowned, “Why not?”

     Crusher felt the bottom of her stomach turn to lead. This was not going to be good.

     “The station manager told Captain Picard that I am not allowed aboard the station.” B-4 replied.

     “Yes, Bee, but why would the station manager ban you?” Lore pressed.

     Crusher was surprised at the ease with which Lore spoke to B-4, phrasing his question in a way most likely to get a correct answer. Lore knew B-4, obviously. It was a glimpse into both their pasts.

     “I did something bad.” B-4 said, his tone falling slightly. He even looked away from Lore, as if he was ashamed.

     “What?” Lore demanded. He was clearly growing angry now, and he kept shooting questioning looks in Crusher’s direction.

     B-4 frowned, “I struck Captain Maddox and injured him. Captain Maddox says I am dangerous, so the station manager thinks I am dangerous, and that is not good.”

     Lore’s expression darkened to the point that Crusher actually took a step back. He glared at her, opening accusing. “What was Maddox doing here?”

     “You’ll have to ask Geordi.” Crusher said slowly, trying to calm him, “Anna knows about it too. She was there.”

     “I don’t want Bruce Maddox anywhere near him!” Lore fumed.

     “Lore, could we please not discuss this in the middle of an airlock gangway.” Crusher sighed. She was on her last nerve with him. Really.

     Lore grumbled and grabbed B-4 by the sleeve, “Come on.”

     “Lore, he _can’t_ board the station.” Crusher groaned.

     “You know what, Doc? I recently learned a new phrase that I think is quite appropriate here. _Screw them_.” With that, he pulled B-4 in the direction of the station and did not release him until he was sure that he would follow. Crusher led the way back into the promenade and to the left, where they quickly entered a narrower corridor leading to a glass door. The room beyond was small but sported the strange design of having multiple glass circles in the floor. Below, one could see a massive view of the _Enterprise_ under repair.

     Troi got up from the sofa against the far wall and sighed when she saw B-4. She shrugged, “I guess there’s no point in me telling you, then.”

     “Why didn’t you tell me you had B-4?” Lore demanded.

     Troi threw up her hands in a huff, “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. You don’t listen to anyone when it doesn’t suit you. Bee, you know you’re not allowed to be on the station right now.”

     Rather than frowning, which Troi would have expected, B-4 beamed a happy smile and said, “Screw them!”

     “Oh, that’s great.” Crusher muttered.

     Troi looked from Lore to B-4 slowly, “So, you know him?”

     Lore cocked his head as if he was confused, “Of course I know him. Why wouldn’t I?”

     Troi shrugged, “We know almost nothing about his history. When he was built, when he was deactivated. We weren’t sure if Dr. Soong deactivated him before or after creating you.”

     Lore laughed, but it was a bitter sound, “Deactivated? Is that what you think? Oh, my dear Counselor, my father did not _deactivate_ B-4. Who spun that little tale?”

     Troi and Crusher exchanged worried glances before Troi met his eyes against, “What do you mean? What happened?”

     Lore clenched his jaw for a moment and looked at each of them. Troi could sense the indecision warring within him, but she said nothing. Finally, he looked down through one of the windows in the floor and said, “The colonists killed him. They ambushed him on the path between my father’s lab and the village. They incapacitated him and then took him apart piece by piece.”

     Troi’s cheeks went pale, and Crusher only had to look at her to know that Lore was absolutely telling the truth.

     “But….” Crusher began, “Why? Why would they do that?”

     Lore scoffed, “Why else? They thought he was me. He didn’t tell you any of this?”

     All three of them turned their eyes on B-4. He was looking around the room with wonder, as if their conversation was not of much interest to him. Suddenly, he glanced at Troi with a very guilty smile.

     “I am not supposed to be aboard the station.”

    

 

    

 


	20. Chapter 20

**_“I’m sorry, Bee.”_ **

     The view from the promenade café was nothing short of impressive. Lore was certain that all the humans who took it in were impressed, and probably a little uneasy, but he felt no vertigo. That was a sensation utterly foreign to him. He leaned back in the café chair and used his finger to idly spin a fork that someone had left on the table in front of him. Around and around, the scrapping sound filling the empty gallery with more disruption than it should have, but there was no one and nothing to compete with it. The third shift had been on for more than an hour, and there were as yet no officers or crew breaking for their mid-shift meal. The place was deserted.

     He continued to spin the fork as the events of the day ran through his mind. What a day. What a monumentally disastrous day. Though, perhaps disastrous was not the appropriate word. Mixed devastation sounded much better. He had been dealt a heavy blow with Data’s death, only to be shocked into near paralysis by the revelation that B-4 was alive…and _here!_ He had always been so sure that B-4 was lost forever that he had not thought about him in years, and had especially avoided the thought of him recently. After all, what the colonists had done to him had enraged Lore so much that he had….Well, everyone knew very well how he had responded.

     “Do you paint pictures?”

     Lore looked lazily over his shoulder at the next closest table, the one nearest the window. B-4 sat at the table with his attention fixed on a green and black puzzle box. He turned the item over in his hands, pressing the various points in different combinations.

     “No.” Lore replied simply.

     “Data painted pictures.” B-4 said, “They are pretty, but they do not look like real things. They do not look like photographs.”

     Lore laughed slightly, “They aren’t supposed to look like ‘real things’, Bee. Art is an interpretation of reality, not an imitation.”

     B-4 looked up, his brow dropped in thoughtful confusion. Eventually, he smiled and nodded, “Okay.”

     “Okay.” Lore tossed back playfully. Apparently, B-4 had taken to imitating all kinds of things, a fact that pleased Lore immensely. His brother had obviously progressed, for at one time he would not have had the ability to so quickly adopt the ways of others. It was one of the primary failings that had kept him from advancing.

     Lore turned back to the view and began spinning the fork once again, but thoughts plagued him too much to continue. The discussion with Troi had been long and informative, once he had finally managed to still himself long enough to take everything in. With every new revelation, he had felt the urge to ask a dozen questions and fly off in a single direction. It was only with Troi’s constant insistence, and Crusher’s yelling, that he had managed to let them finally get it all out. He now knew everything that they did about Schinzon and the _Scimitar,_ of how they had used B-4 to lure the _Enterprise_ into the neutral zone. He knew about Data’s decision to sacrifice himself for everyone, though there was something in that story that he felt was lacking, as if Troi had purposefully left something out. He could not be sure, for Lore’s knack for intuition was not very good—apparently—so he had allowed the subject to drop. The subject of B-4, however, was still open. How had the Remans located B-4 after all this time, when Lore had given him up for lost so long ago?

     “Bee, what is the last thing you remember before you woke up on the desert planet in the Neutral zone?” Lore asked. He watched B-4 carefully from the corner of his eyes, and was not surprised when his brother’s shoulders suddenly went tense and a frightened look overtook his face.

      “I…I do not like to think about that.” B-4 said, the puzzle box stilling in his hands.

      “Was it the colonists?” Lore pressed.

      “Yes.” B-4 murmured, barely getting out the word, “They were…angry at me. They yelled at me and they had a weapon.”

      Lore closed his eyes and tried to hold back his anger. It had been so many years, and he thought he had expelled those demons, but he had never been able to find out what truly happened. Neither had Dr. Soong, to his knowledge.

     “Tell me what happened.” Lore continued, “What did the colonists do?”

     B-4 twisted the box around in his hands faster now, “They…they fired a weapon at me and I could not move. I could still see things and hear things but I could not move. They did not like me. They said I was an…abomination.”

     Lore scoffed bitterly, “Yeah. That’s a word some humans are very fond of. What happened after that?”

     B-4 was really starting to become agitated now. He spun the puzzle around in his hands, and Lore could hear the plastic casing popping and cracking under his brother’s strength.

     “They…took me apart.” B-4 said, his voice so low that it barely made it to Lore, “They disassembled me without deactivating me first. I could…I could see my own back when they put me in the box.”

     “Damnit, Bee….” Lore pressed his palms over his eyes for a moment. He was not surprised, for he and Dr. Soong had theorized that just such a thing must have happened, but that did nothing to lessen the blow, “I’m sorry. I should have gone with you to the village that day.”

     “No.” B-4 said quickly, shaking his head, “They would have gotten you too.”

     Lore thought to ask more questions, but he already knew it was pointless. Picard and the others had already interrogated B-4 to the best of their abilities, and it was clear that B-4 had no knowledge of his whereabouts during all those years. Lore struggled to accept just how long he had been conscious in that box before power minimalization would have forced a shut-down. Three months, perhaps four?

     “I am glad you came back.” B-4 said, suddenly bright again. Lore had almost forgotten—almost—how mercurial B-4 could be.

     “Thank you.” Lore replied, laughing slightly, “I think you’re the only one.”  

     “Now, Anna does not have to be sad anymore.”

     Lore stopped spinning the fork and turned to face him, “What do you know about that?”

     B-4 hesitated, “I…I do not understand.”

     “I mean, how do you know that she was sad?” Lore pressed. He did not doubt B-4, but he wanted to know details, despite how horrible they were likely to make him feel.

     “Data says so.” B-4 said.

     Lore frowned, “Data told you so?”

     “Y…Yes.” B-4 replied. His eyes were a bit wide, and he quickly turned them back on his puzzle box.

     “I think I should give you a full diagnostic, Bee.” Lore said, turning back toward the window, “The time-tense issues in your speech are probably just a translation error in your forward processor.”

     “Yes. Okay.” B-4 said quickly. He fumbled with the puzzle box once more, and released a short delighted laugh when it finally sprang open to reveal a glistening purple geode. He picked it up and showed it to Lore as if he was proud of it.

     “Congratulations.” Lore said, rolling his eyes.

     “Thank you!” B-4 put the box down again and began the equally confounding process of figuring out how to reclose it.

     Lore looked through the viewport at the planet below. It was the dead of night, pitch black, and only the lights of cities could be seen through the swirling atmosphere. Lore sighed and cursed himself silently for perhaps the hundredth time in the last few hours. He was at a loss. He could not leave the station, at least not on his vessel, and there was little to nothing for him to do until Anna agreed to speak to him. It was the middle of the night, and he hardly thought that waking her unannounced would lessen her anger.

     He decided to distract himself instead. He turned to his brother, “Have you been down to the surface?”

     “No.” He replied, “Counselor Troi said it would be overwhelming.”

     “She’s probably right.” Lore muttered.

     “It is okay.” B-4 continued, “I have been to San Francisco and New York and Scotland and Alaska and Okinawa—.”

     “Bee!” Lore barked. He did it before he could stop himself, but the bizarre nature of what he had been hearing was too much. “You haven’t been to any of those places. Why Data gave you his memories, I will never understand. Maybe if we fix your processing error, you won’t continue to confuse your memories and his.”

     “I am sorry.” B-4 said sheepishly, “Geordi and Anna get angry when I forget.”

     “Forget?”

     “I cannot help it sometimes.”

     “I know.” Lore said. He glanced around briefly, just to make sure that there was no one nearby, and softened his voice significantly, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll fix it. You and me, buddy.”

      B-4 smiled. It was the way Dr. Soong had always referred to B-4. _Buddy._ “Okay.”

      Troi had explained the entire bizarre situation with regards to Data’s memories in as much detail as she could, but it had done nothing to lessen the startling nature of it. Data was dead; he was gone. Memories alone did not make up a person.

     _Wow. When did I start thinking like that?_

     “Now that you are here and Anna will not be sad anymore, she will be my friend.” B-4 said matter-of-factly, as if he had the whole scenario mapped out, “She will not dislike seeing me anymore.”

     Lore sighed and picked up the fork, “Don’t count on that just yet. Anna is pissed at me.”

     “Pissed?”

     Lore smirked, “Angry. She is angry with me.”

     “ _Oh._ ” B-4 nodded sagely, “Because you lied and went away. She missed you very much. She cried. I saw her cry in the Jefferies tube, but she did not know I was there and I—.”

     “Bee.”

     B-4 stopped abruptly, “I am sorry. _Data_ saw her cry.”

     Lore dropped the fork with a clatter and pressed his hands over his face for a moment, “Just…stop talking about it. Okay?”

     “Okay.” B-4 went back to his puzzle box, oblivious to Lore’s anguished frown.

     The view continued to occupy him for several more minutes, before the complete lack of useful employment sent a shiver of irritation down his back. He could not stand it. He wanted to speak to Anna, he wanted to regain access to his vessel, and he wanted to go through Data’s personal files to find some reason why he would instruct Troi to send him that message—.

     _Oh! Idiot!_

Lore bolted upright in his chair as an epiphany struck him. How distracted had he been that he had not thought about this before! “Bee!” he said, unintentionally startling his brother.

     “Yes?” B-4 said.

     “I need you to tell me something about Data. Why did he want me to come back? Why did he instruct Troi to send me a message?”

     B-4 frowned, “I do not know.”

     “What do you mean you don’t know? You have Data’s memories. Did he block that information from you?” Lore pressed, suddenly too hopeful to be kind.

     “No…no…I do not know!” B-4 pushed back, his expression a mix of fear and worry.

     Lore pulled back, frowning, “Relax, Bee. I didn’t mean to be harsh.”

     “I do not know…things…about Data when people ask! I do not know! I know _some_ things, _some_ times, but I…I….”

     Lore grabbed B-4 by the shoulders and stilled him, for his brother looked as if he were about to stand and run away, “Stop, Bee, it’s alright. I’m not angry.”

     “Captain Maddox wanted to know things about Data.” B-4 continued, “I could not tell him, and he got angry.”

     “I am not angry.” Lore said again, more slowly. He punctuated the statement with a forced, reassuring smile, which appeared to calm B-4 significantly. B-4 was always a sucker for smiles. “I won’t ask you any more questions about Data’s memories. I promise.”

     “Okay.”

     “And, listen to me, Bee.” Lore took his shoulders again and held his gaze, “ _Do not_ allow Maddox anywhere near you. I don’t care what LaForge or Picard or anyone else says about it. Do you understand?”

     “Yes.” B-4 said with a nod.

     Lore waited for some kind of objection, or at the very least a question, but when neither came he was sure that B-4 already understood. Perhaps Data had said something to him, or that imperfect recall had at least informed him of what Bruce Maddox was really all about. Lore nodded, satisfied, and turned to retake his seat when he saw the turbo-lift doors on the other side of the promenade open. A cadre of THD personnel emerged and made a sharp left in the direction of the shuttle bay. Lore quickly retook his seat and put his back toward them.

     “Bee, face the window.” Lore whispered. B-4 obeyed immediately. Lore made a few subtle glances over his shoulder as the men continued, apparently oblivious to the two of them. One of the men carried a long, thin grey case under one arm, while another carried a Romulan phaser rifle in each hand.

     He turned back toward the window with a satisfied smirk on his face. Two Romulan phaser rifles and a case containing three class L Romulan disruptors; it was all the weaponry that Lore had had every intention of them finding and taking. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed his uplinked data-pad. A quick scan indicated that all of the false readings and shielding systems he had set into place were still intact. The disruptors were criminal enough, and would no doubt satisfy whatever urge they had to add one more thing to his list of charges. It was a pity they would find that the disruptors were, in fact, completely inoperable, which would make the offense little more than a misdemeanor.

     The men disappeared into the shuttle bay and Lore stood. B-4 did the same, picking up his puzzle box as he did.

     “Where are we going now?” B-4 asked, a little excited.

     “You are going back to your quarters.” Lore said, “I have to go back to my ship.”

     “I want to see your ship.” B-4 said.

     “Not right now.” Lore replied, “I have a lot of things to do, and you shouldn’t cross the station once the day shift starts.”

     “Oh. Okay.” B-4 muttered, clearly disappointed.

     Lore shook his head and indulged in a little good-natured eye rolling, but it was bitter-sweet. It was that same pleading tone that had convinced Dr. Soong to let B-4 leave the lab on his own that morning.

     “I will see you tomorrow.” Lore assured him, “Don’t worry, Bee. I’m not leaving. Not again.”

     B-4 smiled and followed Lore as they crossed the promenade in the direction of the turbo lift. The large corridor leading to the _Enterprise_ airlock was off to the right. B-4 headed in that direction, then stopped half way and faced Lore.

     “What things do you need to do aboard your ship?” He asked.

     Lore smiled. His brother had progressed, yet he was remarkably the same; the same curious B-4.

     “Why, dear brother, I have something very _very_ important to do.” Lore said with a little laugh, “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time.”

     B-4’s eyes brightened with excitement, “What?”

     “I’m going to shed this ridiculous human façade from my face, and not a moment too soon.” Lore leaned forward, still laughing slightly, “I think gold eyes are much more attractive. Agreed?”

     B-4 smiled, “Agreed!

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

**_“I needed you too!”_ **

     “Hey. Anna? Are you okay?”

     Anna drew a slow, deep breath and remained perfectly still. It was lucky that her face was turned away, otherwise she wouldn’t have had a chance of hiding the tears running down her cheeks.

     “You asleep?” Jasmine whispered further, her voice soothing.

     Anna clenched her eyes shut and tried not to shake. A part of her was touched by Jasmine’s concern, and she knew she meant well, but Anna did not want company or comfort. She didn’t think she could bear it.

     Jasmine sighed lightly and Anna heard her take a soft step away from the bed. “Sorry, Babe.” Jasmine whispered. A moment later Anna heard the tell-tale sounds of Jasmine putting on her uniform top, zipping it closed, and leaving quietly. As soon as the door swished closed behind her, Anna turned her face into the pillow and let lose another volley of whimpering sobs. She felt worn out, and her dry throat kept threatening to close. She knew she needed to get up, drink something, and probably go to the gym, but that was reality and she just didn’t want to face it. She did not want to face the truth.

     _He lied to me. He_ left _me._

She sat up suddenly, her sorrow congealing into a burst of anger, and threw the blankets back, “Computer, time?”

     _“The time is oh, seven hundred hours.”_

      “Great.” She muttered. She had not even managed to sleep in, which would have been some kind of relief. As it was she had another twenty-four hours of nothing to look forward to, thanks to Dr. Crusher taking her off duty. Though, she wasn’t so sure that working would be a relief now. Jasmin’s attempt to console her was all the proof she needed that everyone already knew about Lore and, worst still, knew that he had lied.

     She bent forward against a sickening wave of humiliation. God! How she had defended him! In the weeks after the explosion at Ohnika III she had worn her heart on her sleeve despite herself. She knew she had looked miserable in her silence, in her sudden withdrawal from social settings, and she had not shied away from speaking in Lore’s defense whenever anyone dared to express happiness over his death. And many had. Oh, yes! _Schadenfreude_ became a regular pass-time aboard the Enterprise in those few weeks, and she had never let it pass. It hadn’t mattered who she alienated or angered, whether they were below or above her in rank, she had always reminded them that they would be dead had it not been for Lore.

     And all the while he had been alive, somewhere.

      _How could you do this to me?_

 She pulled her robe from the back of the chair next to her bed and slipped it on. Jasmine always kept the room a little cold, which Anna liked when she was sleeping. She hugged herself and headed toward her desk where she activated her computer console with a trembling hand. She did it on impulse, for it was her habit to check her messages and other news bulletins she subscribed to every morning, though she suddenly thought that it might be better to skip that today. She didn’t want to imagine what messages there were from her sisters, or her mother. He father wouldn’t send a message, since he hated communicating in absentia, but the rest would more than make up for it. No doubt they had already heard the news too, and were desperate for her to finally speak to them.

     Her customized front page came up and, sure enough, there were six personal messages in her box, all from her two sisters and her mother. All had been received less than two hours ago, which left Anna dreading what was in the morning news bulletins. She was about to select one to read, but stopped herself. She could guess what it said. Lore was not dead; he had faked his dead; speculation reigned about his whereabouts, etc. It would be all the fantastic innuendo and shock journalism that surrounded such subjects, and she didn’t care to read it.

     Her stomach clenched again just as the computer beeped and another message dropped into her box. She looked up and gasped. It was from Owen. She fell into her chair, her numb legs giving out underneath her.

    “Oh, God….” She muttered as she ran her fingers through her now unruly hair. She didn’t know what to do. Saying that she did not know what to do was an understatement! For several long seconds she did not even breathe. What could he possibly want, and now? Better yet, what did he no longer want? She shook her head and opened the message with a resigned sigh.

 

From: Dr. Warrick, Owen H., Lt. Commander

To: Hall, Anna G., Lieutenant. 

      I hope you’re feeling all right. I know you were very upset yesterday when you left sickbay, and of course I don’t expect you to keep our holodeck reservation tonight. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk to anyone. I consider you a very good friend, Anna, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. You know where to find me if you want to talk.

 

Sincerely,

Owen

 

     Anna gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. She had no idea that she would be shocked, but now that it stood in front of her in black and white she realized that she was. She had, subconsciously, dismissed Owen as lost. She had simply figured that with Lore now back in the picture he would want nothing to do with her. The number of people who had ceased to speak to her, whom she could no longer call friends, had only increased in the time since Lore’s death—no! _Absence—_ and she had uncharitably pushed Owen into that category as well.

     Despite her mysterious efforts, a short smile crossed her lips. Owen didn’t care. He didn’t look down on her for having been close to Lore. It made her feel…better.

     She sniffled loudly, drawing back incoming tears, and got out of her seat with a kind of firm resolution that would have been unthinkable only a few moments ago. She wasn’t going to sit around and stew in her own misery if she could help it, and she wasn’t going to expect anyone or anything to make it all better. Without meaning to, her thoughts suddenly swung to the litany of road blocks that had been thrown up before her in the last several years. She thought of the transfer rejections, the lost friendships, and the snide comments from fellow crewmen, and she felt her blood boil. But, she was no longer angry at them. She was angry because everything she had bourn no longer seemed worth it. She had gone through hell for someone who…who….

     _How could you do this to me, Lore?_

Anna pulled on her uniform in record time and smoothed her hair into a pony tail, each angry movement of her arms only strengthening her resolve. She continued to hold on to that anger as she left her quarters and headed toward engineering. It was only the dull pain in the pit of her stomach that reminded her that she would need a hell of a lot of anger in order to hold on to her resolve.

 

***

 

     “You!”

     Lore rolled his eyes and stepped back into the turbo lift, his back pressing flush against the rear wall. He gave Worf a sarcastic look.

     “Yes. _Me.”_ He retorted, “What’s wrong, Worf? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

     Worf responded with an unintelligible grumble that sounded more like a growl. He stepped into the lift and crossed his arms over his chest. He did not turn to face the door.

     “Deck twenty!” Worf commanded.

     The lift picked up speed as it moved down through the ship, and neither man so much as wobbled in reaction to the jolt. Worf stood firm, glaring at Lore as if he were trying to burn a hold into him. For his part, Lore stared right back, though his expression was more like one of resigned amusement.

     “So,” Lore said, the corners of his mouth tilting up into a smile, “Here we are again.”

     Worf made a confused frown for only a second before he shifted his eyes around the lift and realization struck. Perhaps the only fight Worf had ever lost in his life had been to Lore. And it had been in a turbo lift.

     Worf snorted and lifted his chin defiantly, “I am _not_ happy to see you.”

     “Oh!” Lore clutched at his chest with a melodramatic sigh, “How will I go on?”

     “What are you doing here?” Worf demanded, “You no longer reside aboard the _Enterprise._ ”

     “The _Enterprise_ is docked with an open port. Unless I’m banned, I don’t need your permission.” Lore said with a shrug.

     Worf grumbled again and shifted away slightly, though not enough to lose sight of Lore for a moment. The lift continued to descent in awkward silence until it came to a slow stop at main engineering. The doors opened and Lore stepped forward.

     “What business do you have here?” Worf asked as he reluctantly stepped away from the door.

     “Something malevolent, I can assure you.” Lore muttered irritably. He knew without a doubt that Worf would never like him, and he actually had no problem with that, but the trust thing was getting to be tiresome.

     “Lt. Hall has been relieved of duty for the next twenty four hours. She is not here.” Worf said firmly.

     Lore turned slowly, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “Well, well! It seems that everyone knows the details of my business. I guess you won’t have to trouble me with any more cranky ‘what are you doing here?’ questions, then.”

     The lift doors closed on an even crankier Worf, and Lore turned toward the main engineering deck. He had assumed that Anna would be off duty today, or at least placed on light duty, but he had been unable to resist a look anyway. As much as he would hate to admit it—and never would—he had missed the _Enterprise._  He had missed main engineering and the endless tasks. He had missed making snide comments to get under LaForge’s skin, and hearing Blake’s latest absurd attempt to gain the attention of some woman who wasn’t interested in him. It had become his home. Hell may have frozen over, but the _Enterprise_ of all places had become his home!

     “Sir, _please_. I’m fine. I just need something to do. Anything.”

     Lore stopped just at the edge of the main entrance, his ears entirely attuned to the sound of Anna’s voice.

     “Look, Hall, I know where you’re coming from. I don’t appreciate medical down time either, but if Dr. Crusher finds out I just disobeyed her order, she’ll have _my_ hide.” LaForge said with a little laugh, “No way.”

     Anna sighed heavily, though Lore did not look around the corner to see her expression. She continued, her voice lower, “I could just finish cataloguing the isolinear chips they took from science lab three yesterday. I promise I won’t leave the control room. I’ll just sit on my medically relieved butt and log chips. You can’t get any lighter than that. Besides, if I can’t work today I’ll just go to the holodeck, which is probably more strenuous than logging chips.”

     LaForge laughed and Lore had to resist doing the same.

     “You make it sound like you’re black mailing me, Hall!” LaForge scoffed, “You know what? Fine. Log the chips, but I don’t want to see you doing _anything_ else. Got it?”

     “Absolutely. Thank you.” Anna sighed.

     Lore continued to listen intently. Her voice was low and tired, though he supposed that just had to do with the hour. He waited until he heard her footsteps echo into the control room, and once again he went over in his mind what he should say to her. Once again he was at a loss. Everything he had said to her in sickbay—the truth—had only seemed to anger her, and he was not interested in lying to her. Though, perhaps he would not have to. Perhaps she had had time to calm down and see his point of view. There was only one way to find out.

     He stepped into the room and headed toward the control table. Anna looked up and her eyes focused instantly on his restored white skin and honey gold eyes. A smile escaped her lips, only to be instantly shut down.

     _I saw that._  

     She looked down at the table once again, as if she had not noticed him, and removed a data pad from the uplink cradle. She tucked it under her arm and moved swiftly into the control room, once again not looking at him. Lore hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he should follow her, but now that he was in the same room the idea of leaving was unthinkable. He walked to the control table and looking into the room, where Anna was setting herself up next to a console with several small boxes of isolinear chips at her feet. She seemed to be doing everything she could to look at nothing but the chips.

     “Hey, Lore.” Ensign Blake said cautiously as he came up to the table and unloaded a few tool kits, “Um…how’s it going?”

     “Fine.” Lore replied. He eyes shifted toward Anna and he muttered, “Could be better.”

     Blake also glanced in Anna’s direction, and frowned, “Yeah. So…um…where have you been?”

     Lore once again glanced into the control room, and he was certain that he saw Anna pause, her ears perked up. She was listening. He felt his chest constrict, as improbably as that was, and he turned back to Blake.

     “I was in the Beta quadrant. Mostly.”

     “Oh.” Blake swallowed hard and scratched the back of his neck, “Why…um. I mean, why did you…leave like that?”

     “You should ask Kendrick.” Lore replied. The mention of the man’s name made Blake’s eyes widen. Kendrick had died a rather painful and horrible death due to the sabotage that Narok Reed had wrought aboard the _Enterprise_ more than two years ago _._ The man had been liquefied alive by a cloud of warp plasma. It had all been part of Reed’s maniacal pursuit of Lore, and Kendrick had paid the ultimate price.

     “Oh.” Blake said again, his stock response when dumbstruck. He shifted his weight a few times, “Well…I guess you….” He shook his head, “Never mind. It’s good to see you again. Glad you changed your mind.”

     Lore’s jaw fell open a bit, and he was about to protest the sentiment, but Blake snatched up one of the tool kits and walked away before he had a chance. For a moment, Lore tried to figure out why Blake would say something so obviously untrue— _trying to spare my feelings?—_ but decided to disregard it for the time being. He turned his attention to the control room again, which was blessedly empty except for Anna. She had turned her chair to face the screen, and was pulled chips from the box one at a time as she logged their numbers into the console and placed them into another box.

     “Hello, Anna.” He said softly as he stepped into the room.

     She nodded sharply, “Lore.”

     _Damn._ So much for being forgiven. He took a few more steps toward her, “Do you need any help?”

     “No.” She said quickly, but her voice was heavy and she bit her lower lip as if she was trying to hold something back.

     He knelt down on the deck next to her chair suddenly, causing her to gasp and close her eyes. Lore picked up one of the little boxes of chips and looked through it.

     “This will go much faster if you let me help you. You can read the numbers off and I’ll log them.” He smiled to himself. That sounded like a good plan. He would be able to listen to her voice, even if it was just numbers and letters.

     “That will barely be any faster.” She said, still not looking at him, “It’s a waste of your time.”

     “Anna, it is definitely _not_ a waste of my time.” He assured her, his voice full of meaning. He looked down at the box again and frowned, “There are hundreds of these. Let me help you.”

     “No.” Anna breathed, shaking her head, “Just…please just leave me alone, Lore.”

     He sat back on his haunches and closed his eyes as he felt his heart sink. She looked so exhausted and worn down, and he could not help but think that he was the cause of it. Her hair was different, pulled back and smoothed as if she were trying to polish herself into something she wasn’t, and it was clear that she had lost weight as well, though he hoped to attribute that to her recent injuries. What if…what if he had underestimated the amount of pain he had caused her?

     “Anna, please talk to me.” He whispered. He reached out and placed his hand on her knee, “Data told me I would regret leaving, and he was right.”

     “That didn’t stop him from lying to me for almost two years.” She shot back. She turned her eyes sharply onto the box of chips and clenched her lower lip between her teeth.

     Lore clenched his jaw. What could he say to that? The sudden mention of Data only reminded him of how much he missed him, and of how bizarre that feeling was considering their dubious relationship. He pushed it away, as he had been doing for the past twenty four hours.

     “You have to understand.” He continued, “I thought you would be safer and better off if I wasn’t around.”

     “Better off?” She cried. She covered her mouth with her hand, instantly regretting the outburst. “Then why am I still here? Why have all my transfer requests been denied and—.” She stopped suddenly and leaned over the console so far that Lore thought she was going to press her forehead to the glass.

     He could feel his calm resolve starting to wear. What did she mean by transfer requests? What had been going on? He leaned in closer, “I’m here now, Anna. Please don’t be angry with me. I…I need you.”

     “I needed you too!” She said suddenly, her voice coming out as a hiss through clenched teeth. She pressed her hand over her eyes, as if that was the only way she could keep from looking at him, “Please, Lore, I’m _begging_ you. I can’t talk about this right now. I…I don’t want to talk about this.”

     Lore pulled his hand away from her knee and sat quietly. He didn’t want to leave. Anything but that! He opened his mouth to speak again, for the urge to argue his point was so damn intense that he was finding it physically difficult to keep quiet. He managed, though, and only said, “All right. We don’t need to talk. We’re rather good at that anyway, remember?”

     She released a quick breath, which sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and looked away from him. For several long moments, Lore watched her as she appeared to struggle with herself. Finally, she just nodded and rolled her chair further down the console.

     _Yes!_ Lore managed to restrain a broad smile as he retrieved another chair from across the room and took a seat next to Anna. He rested his fingers over the pad and waited.

     Anna sighed as she picked up a chip and read, “A-four-seven-one.”

     Lore entered the code with a single flourish of his hand.

     Anna dropped the chip in the correct box and picked up another, “A-four-five-three.”

     Another flourish.

     This continued back and forth, all the while Lore trying to keep his eyes on the console, for each time Anna looked up to find him staring at her she would flinch and look away. He could not pretend her discomfort wasn’t painful, but he was determined to be quiet if that was what she wanted. He was determined to do whatever she wanted if it meant she would eventually forgive him.

     _A few more days. How long can she stay angry?_

     They maintained a regular, if awkward, pace for more than hour before the door at the rear of the control room opened and a tall man with thick black hair and a tanned complexion walked in. His eyes went immediately to the two of them, causing his steps to falter. His brow wrinkled in a clear show of disapproval.

     “Hall, didn’t I ask you to keep him out of here?” Millet snapped, crossing his thick arms over his chest.

     Anna got a look on her face something like panic, which did not please Lore at all. Before Anna could do anything—and she did try to grab his arm—Lore spun around in the chair and crossed his arms in a clear imitation of the man.

     “Keep _who_ out of here?” Lore asked. He forced his lips up into a sickly sweet smile, an expression that B-4 would never make.

     Millet frowned before his eyes narrowed in sudden understanding. All things considered, Lore was actually quite impressed that the man did not look afraid. “I see.” Millet said in a huff, “I thought you were the other one.”

     “You mean I’m not ‘the other one’ anymore?” Lore said with a bitter laugh, “I guess not. But, if you are referring to my brother, his name is B-4.”

     “Right.” Millet said flatly. He turned back toward Anna, “I thought you were relieved of duty today?”

     Anna reached into the box and removed another chip. She did not look at either of them, “Commander LaForge said I could do this anyway.”

     “Fine.” Millet said quickly. He continued out of the room without another glance at either of them, though Lore was sure the man was moving faster than necessary. He looked back at Anna, who was running her fingers through the chips in a kind of nervous action. Lore listened and could hear the increased rate of her heartbeat.

     “Who is that man?” Lore asked.

     “Lieutenant Commander Millet.” She muttered, shrugging. She continued to not look at him, but Lore saw her glance quickly into the main bay after the man.

     Lore narrowed his eyes, “You don’t like him.”

     “So?” She shrugged again, “We should keep going. A-six-three-six.”

     He opened his mouth to press the issue, for he could clearly see that something negative was going on between Millet and Anna, but he decided now was not the time to push it. He reluctantly entered the code into the console and waited for her to select another chip. As thoroughly uninteresting as their task was, he had absolutely no qualms with staying for the entire shift or longer. In fact, it was not entirely implausible that if he stayed until the end of the shift he could convince Anna to let him have dinner with her, and then he would have a further chance to talk to her and try to explain things. Though, he had already explained everything in detail. What else could he say?

     _“Crusher to Hall.”_

     “Oh, crap.” Anna muttered. She tapped her badge, “Hall here.”

     _“I’m just going to assume that you got lost on your way to the sickbay.”_

Anna frowned for a brief second until her eyes shot open and she groaned, “I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I just thought I was supposed to go to my regular physical therapy this afternoon.”

     _“You have a post op checkup that you should have showed up for ten minutes ago.”_ Crusher replied, though she did not sound particularly angry, _“I’ll be waiting for you.”_

“I’m sorry. I’m on my way.” Anna replied.

     _“Good. And if I’m not mistaken you’re supposed to be off duty today, unless you’ve taken to sleeping in engineering.”_

     Anna cringed, but there was a tiniest bit of amusement on her face, “Did Commander LaForge rat me out?”

     _“No, but he should have.”_ Crusher replied, _“I talk to him later.”_

“Understood.” Anna sighed, “I’m on my way.” She tapped her badge, closing the channel, and stood.

     Lore stood as well as stepped back from the chair, giving every indication that he intended to go with her. She bit her lower lip again and looked nervously toward the main bay.

     “I have an appointment. I have to go.” She said quickly.

     “I’ll go with you.” He said, standing close to her, “Crusher told me about your injuries.”

     Anna breathing was increasing, and she seemed to force herself to take a step back from, “You don’t need to go with me. I’m fine. You should spend time with B-4.”

     Lore sighed. He could see that for whatever reason Anna did not want to be around him at the moment. He was sure he understood he nervous fidgeting and strained speech. She wanted to yell at him, and she could hardly allow herself to do that in public. They needed to be alone together, and he was more than willing to tolerate a screaming fit if that was what it took.

     “All right.” He said, “I can see you this evening, then. We can have dinner together.”

     She shook her head automatically and took another few steps back, “No. I…I don’t think—. I can’t.”

     Lore frowned. This was never going to end if she didn’t get the anger off her chest. It was one of the few tid-bits of human psychology that he understood well. Humans poisoned themselves with too much emotional restraint, and Anna did far more self-poisoning than most. He had never had that problem.

     “Why not?” He said.

     “I just can’t.” She insisted.

     Lore sighed, a little exasperated. It wasn’t his intent, but Lore simply wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted in a timely fashion. Anna had forgiven him before, and for far worse in his opinion, and it hardly helped that he had never really had to battle for her affections. He was, as humans loved to say, a fish out of water here.

     “There must be a reason.” He countered. _You can’t keep avoiding me._

     She took another step back, scowling, “I have to go.” She turned to leave and Lore scowled right back as he went after her. It was only a few short steps to get in front of her as they came to the side of the control table.

     “I’ll just come to your quarters this evening, then.” He said, his voice demonstrating all his sure confidence.

     “No.” She said quickly, “I don’t have my own quarters anymore. I have a roommate.”

     “Then we can go to my ship. We need to talk about—.”

     “I’m busy this evening.” She blurted. She gasped, almost as if she had not meant to say it, or her own words had surprised her.

     Lore tilted his head, “Busy with what?”

     “I…I’m going to….”

     Lore sighed, but a smile marked it. She had no plans, she was just trying to avoid him, and doing a terrible job at it too. Anna had always been a terrible liar and she always would be. He stepped closer to her, his expression softening, “I understand why you’re angry with me, but that will eventually fade once you see that I had a good reason for leaving.”

     Lore would realize later why that statement was perhaps one of the stupidest things to ever leave his mouth. Anna’s expression went from uncomfortable to angry to downright determined. She took another step back and lifted her chin as she folded her arms over her chest.

     “I’m sorry, Lore, but I can’t spend any time with you this evening.” She took a deep breath, “I have a date.”

     _Date? An…appointment? A…schedule conflict?_

Lore’s jaw fell open slightly as Anna sidestepped around him and headed toward the exit. He shifted his eyes frantically as he considered and dismissed every possible meaning of that word until only one remained. He looked up, his fists clenched in front of him, and faced Blake, the only person left in the room.

     “She has a _what!_ With _who!”_

     Blake clutched his tool kit to his chest and made a made a mad dash for the junction room door.

     “Blake! Get back here!” Lore demanded as he went in pursuit of the terrified Ensign. 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

**_“He knows…everything.”_ **

     “He was earlier, but he left a little bit after Hall did.” Blake said as he cringed, probably at the memory of some recent event. The Ensign switched out several tools in his kit and quickly disappeared back into the junction room.

     Geordi let out a relieved sigh and rubbed the back of his aching neck. Thank God for that! The last thing he needed right now was to deal with Lore. It was bad enough that he had spent a good portion of his morning dodging messages from Bruce Maddox, he had later been forced to respond to a message from Admiral Carson, the actual head of the Daystrom Institute. It appeared that Maddox was not going to take being ignored quietly, and he was using rank to get what he wanted.

      Although, _what_ Maddox wanted was anyone’s guess. Geordi scoffed and shook his head at the thought. There was no way in hell Lore was going to submit to so much a body scan from Maddox, let alone anything that the cyberneticist would actually find useful. As for B-4, well….Geordi knew he should never have agreed to allow Maddox anywhere near him, but he had hoped against hope that once Maddox confirmed that B-4’s positronic net was too rudimentary for his uses he would have stopped harassing Geordi and Troi with constant requests.

     As it stood, Geordi could not think of any leverage Maddox could wield over Lore or B-4. The man was nothing more than a nuisance at this point.

     Quite frankly, he did not need this distraction right now. The new propulsion refit was on schedule, but that schedule was proving to be damned grueling. He hadn’t worked less than a fourteen hour day since the _Enterprise_ was towed into port, and it didn’t look like it was going to slow down any time soon. It was true that he had no one to blame but himself. He desperately wanted this new propulsion system for the _Enterprise_ , but Starfleet command was unwilling to keep their flagship in dry stock for a moment longer than necessary. That meant that if Geordi could not complete the new install by the time the rest of the _Enterprise_ repairs were complete, the entire venture would be lost. And there was no way he was going to show adequate progress without keeping up the breakneck pace.

     “Commander LaForge, I have completed the nacelle strut diagnostics.” Seven of Nine said as she stopped at the edge of the control table and presented a data pad.

     Geordi took the pad with a low whistle, “Already? How many people did Millet put on this?”

     Seven stiffened at the mention of the name. “None. I completed the diagnostics myself. All of the struts are sound except for number four on the port side. There are several micro-fractures that will need attention.”

     Geordi looked over the pad, but he knew it was a formality. Seven’s work would be impeccable, just like everything else she had done. Still, this was a hell of a lot of work. “How long did this take?” Geordi asked.

     Seven clasped her hands behind her back, “Twenty-nine hours.”

     “Twenty-nine hours?” Geordi balked, “You only started this day before last.”

     “I do not require regular sleep, Commander.” Seven said, her brow lifted up in some amusement.

     “Right.” Geordi chuckled, “You told me that before. Well…hell. This is great. At this rate we might actually manage to stay on schedule without lying about it.”

     “I’m afraid you might find lying to be useful regardless. According to my calculations, we will not be able to meet the design schedule that Starfleet Command has set.” Seven said. Her words were short and to the point, though Geordi was sure he detected some displeasure there. She wasn’t any happier about it than him.

     “You’re sure about that?” He said with a frown, “I could talk to station maintenance control, see if they can’t spare a few bodies to help us out.”

     “‘Bodies’ will be of little use. I think—.” She stopped sudden as her eye twitched and she brought her hand to her temple, wincing in pain.

     “Are you sure you don’t need more rest?” Geordi asked, watching her carefully.

     “I do not.” Seven replied, somewhat sharply. As she looked up, still rubbing her temple in a strange fashion, she saw Geordi’s frown and softened somewhat, “Forgive me, Commander. I am fine. It is merely a headache.”

      “Ok.” Geordi said with a shrug. If there was anything people could be touchy about, it was their own health.  

     Seven touched the panel on the control table and brought up the install schedule that Geordi had looked over so many times he practically had it memorized. The next ten days were highlighted in red, clearly Seven’s doing. She pointed to the final day, “Starfleet command has requested that all of our programming upgrades and console interface alterations be complete by this date. It is impossible.”

     In his gut he knew she was right, but Geordi just wasn’t he kind of person to admit defeat. How many times had be used the ‘I’ word—impossible—with Captain Picard, and yet always managed to come through?

     Seven continued, “Increased manpower would help us in completing the interface alterations, but the programming upgrades are too knowledge intensive. I know this system entirely. You have been studying it for months. Anyone without an extensive prior knowledge will be more of a hindrance than a help.”

     Geordi rested his hands on the edge of the table and tried to think. There had to be something they could do. Starfleet wasn’t in the business of wasted manpower, and if he wasn’t able to show that this timeline was doable they were going to pull the plug on everything. But, Seven was right. There were precious few people who understood the Borg system they were dealing with. It wasn’t just a phased cloak. The Romulans had tried that and failed with spectacular results. No. It was a phased cloak that _worked._ It would allow the ship to be phased out of normal space while still being visible, thus avoiding any treaty violations with the Romulans, who still insisted that the Federation could not have cloaking technology. It was perfect, and Geordi could think of no less than a hundred instances in which such a thing would have been a God-sent to the _Enterprise._ This had to work. He had to find a way for it to work.

    “Who else has been working on this project? Maybe we can get some more brain power around here for the reprogramming.” Geordi suggested.

     Seven considered, “Dr. Carlos Morsi is the official head of the project, but he is eighty-eight years old and in poor health.”

     “Damn. What about Corgan? Isn’t he overseeing the refit on the _Juniper_ at Utopia Planetia?”

     Seven nodded, “I have already contacted him. He was…colorful. Apparently, his operation is equally behind schedule and he has no interest in sparing anyone.”

     Geordi shook his head and leaned further over the table. The ache in his neck was getting worse. Good, God, if he didn’t need a vacation! Then again, so did everyone. He stood up and stretched his back, along with his sore neck.

     “We could really use your help now, Data.” He muttered to himself. It was just a thought that came out, and not meant for anyone’s benefit, but Seven raised her brow and nodded in a kind of way that left Geordi confused. “What?” He said.

     “I do have a suggestion, though I am uncertain of how you will react.” Seven said, her eyes shifting down to the table for a moment.

     “Well, only way to know. What is it?” He pressed.

     Seven took a deep breath and stiffened her posture, a physical move that Geordi had come to expect as one of her usual mannerisms. “There is someone very familiar with this system that we may be able to utilize. Lore.”

     “Lore?” Geordi said. It came out more as a groan than a question. “What does he know about transphasic warpfields?”

     Seven’s lips pressed together in a look of displeasure. “He knows…everything.”

     “Where would he—?” Geordi stopped midsentence as the memories came flooding back, as if they could ever fade! Lore’s dealings with the Borg so many years ago had been brief, and Starfleet had never truly learned the extent of it all. For his part, Geordi could remember very little, since he had spent most of that horrendous time blind, his VISOR stolen, and suffering under the horrible experiments that Lore had forced Data to perform on him. He didn’t like the memory and the renewed bought of anger it brought towards Lore. He had nearly gotten over this.

     “Yes.” Seven continued, for she had seen his sudden realization, “During Lore’s time with the Borg, he had sporadic but extensive access to Borg technology and even interfaces with the collective. I…remember his intrusions.”

     _Wow._ Geordi could not help his look of astonishment. For the sake of propriety he had made a point to not talk about the Borg with Seven of Nine, guessing that she considered the topic a sore spot, but this was simply too much to ignore.

     “Lore had _access_ to the collective?” Geordi said, astonished.

     “Very briefly, but he was able to garner an amazing amount of information in that time.” Seven replied, her frown returning as she once again rubbed at her temple, “Lore’s knowledge of Borg technology is undoubtedly substantial, but I am…guessing as to the particulars. My memory is not exact.”

     Geordi shook his head in borderline disbelief. Why had he not even considered this? Was it because he was just too tired to think straight, or was it because the idea of bringing up anything to do with the Borg was not something he wanted to do with Lore—? _Oh, crap._

     “This might not work.” Geordi said, shaking his head, “Lore isn’t exactly pleased when people mention his past.”

     “I know the feeling.” Seven deadpanned.

     “Yeah.” He sighed, a little uncomfortable. “It might not be pretty, but I don’t think we’ll have a problem, and I think the Captain will agree.”

     “Why?” Seven asked suddenly.

     “Why will the Captain agree? He doesn’t exactly like Lore, but I think he’s come to understand that he isn’t the same person he was. Not by a long shot.”

     “No.” Seven continued, “I mean, why do you think Lore would agree? Do you not believe he would refuse?”

     Geordi laughed despite himself and shook his head knowingly, “Nope. I don’t think we’ll have _any_ problem getting Lore to agree to work in engineering for hours on end. He’ll jump at it.”

     Seven raised a curious brow, “Why?”

     Geordi sighed, heavily, and looked almost guilty. “He just will.” 

      

    

      


	23. Chapter 23

**_“I fixed him.”_ **

     _I can’t believe this. I cannot_ fucking _believe this!_

No matter how many times he read the same news bulletins—and he had read all of them several times—he could not seem to get over the shock. Less than thirty hours ago he could see his entire career and the future of cybernetics going down the tubes, and now…this. Just like that, Lore had reappeared like a hologram sprung to life. Bruce Maddox rubbed both his temples and tried to message his headache away.

     _I can’t believe this._

     Perhaps the only thing more amazing than Lore’s reappearance was the manner in which he had vanished. And the only thing more amazing than _that_ was the fact that Data had helped him do it! That was the real mind blow. He had to admit that he had underestimated Data to an amazing degree. Data had resisted his efforts at more invasive research for years, but he had always done so within the confines of the law and Starfleet regulations. Maddox would never have guessed in a million years that Data would break the law to thwart him, for to Maddox’s mind that was clearly what had happened. His redress with the Federation judiciary had been looking promising, and no doubt Data and Lore had concluded that Lore would soon be forced back into his custody where he would have a better chance of conducting the experiments he so desperately needed. So, the two of them manufactured this accidental death to allow Lore to escape!

     Yes. Maddox frowned bitterly. That was _obviously_ what had happened, and how convenient that Lore should reappear now, only two months after the statute of limitations on his redress had run out!

     Maddox tossed the data pad aside in a rough gesture. It slid across his desk and clattered to the floor, but he didn’t give a damn. The lab was a mess and he had nothing to show for it. Ever since the news of Data’s death had reached Earth, he had dived headlong into a new series of neural net simulations and had spent every waking moment neck deep in Noonien Soong’s surviving journals and lab notes. Nothing had come of it. Not one damn thing. Every simulation was a failure, and that was if the net was stable enough to even initialize a test! Soong’s lab notes seemed thorough, but that was just an illusion. Like great cooks, most of what Soong had done was intuitive, on the fly, and never added to the final _recipe._ It was a damned shitty way to record experiments.

      It was with the revelation that this other android, B-4, had survived that Maddox had begun to entertain some hope of continuing his research. But, that had been dashed to pieces. Despite the obvious progress that the android had made, B-4’s neural net simply lacked the complexity of either Data or Lore’s. By Maddox’s estimation B-4’s intuitive abilities and complex speech comprehension skills were roughly on par with that of a seven year old child, and were quite likely to remain there.  In addition to that, B-4’s positronic brain had fully intergraded emotional programming, which could not be parsed out for the sake copying. Data and Lore’s emotions, however, were subsystems that could be deactivated if necessary, and it absolutely was necessary. Maddox had no interest in creating emotional androids. Lore had proven well enough that an emotional android was a troublesome android.

     “How’s it going, Bruce?”

     Maddox jerked up in his seat and turned around, a frown immediately marking his face. He covered it up quickly, and made to stand up. “Admiral.”

     “Relax.” Admiral Carson said as he entered the lab and took a seat on the edge of a nearby console, “I’m just coming by to see how you’re progressing.”

     “Fine.” Maddox said automatically, “I have two simulations set up for tonight, and the second one looks promising.”

     Carson forced a smile over his pink lips. The man was too young to be an admiral, in Maddox’s humble opinion. He was barely fifty and looked several years younger than that. He wore his caramel brown hair a little too long for regulations, and had long manicured fingers that were better suited to playing the piano than any kind of real employment. Maddox had to resist the urge to sneer whenever he saw him. The whole damned institute knew the man had gotten his position because of his father.

     “Promising how?” Carson continued, the snide smile still on his face.

     _As if you would understand!_ “I’ve employed a layering technique in the second one, to see if we can achieve stability one pathway at a time instead of trying for the whole at once.”

     “Right.” Carson nodded, as if he understood a word Maddox had just said. “And you think you might actually get somewhere this time?”

     Maddox’s jaw clenched. Since Carson had been appointed as command head of the Daystrom Institute some six months ago, he had been riding Maddox for physical signs of progress almost daily. What made it truly intolerable was that Maddox knew the man had no real interest in cybernetics or the kind of amazing advances it could have for the Federation. He was only interested in furthering his name and his career, which was a joke in itself. The man was perhaps the most unprofessional admiral Maddox had ever seen. He brushed off dismissal protocol as if it were a nuisance, and even had the nerve to request some of his staffers call him by his first name. It gave strangers the illusion that he was humble and approachable, when in fact it was a just another kind of conceit. He was too good even for regulations.  

     “Perhaps.” He muttered.

     “Perhaps?” Carson scoffed, “Look, I sent a message to this Commander LaForge this morning, but there’s no point in pursuing that route. The man has zero influence or sway over the androids and neither does Picard.”

     “I know they don’t have to answer to LaForge, but he is the defacto guardian of the older one, B-4—.”

     “ _Was_.” Carson interjected, “Don’t you read the papers, Bruce? It just hit the wires a few hours ago, a few excerpts from Commander Data’s will. He left everything to Lore. _Everything.”_

Maddox swallowed hard. This entire subject didn’t matter anymore, but he still didn’t like hearing it.

     Carson continued, “So, even if you had managed to get this B-4 declared _non compos mentis,_ or dangerous, or whatever the hell you were planning, it doesn’t matter. Lore will have complete responsibility for him. And _custody_ over him.”   

     Maddox forced back a snide comment and merely shrugged, “That doesn’t matter. B-4’s positronic net is unsuitable anyway. I already told you this.”

     “Then why the little incident in the _Enterprise_ lab?” Carson said with a smile.

     Maddox frowned, angrily, “Excuse me?”

     “Oh, come on, I’m not an idiot. What did you do or say to get him to hit you? I’m actually pretty curious.”

     Maddox walked around the desk and picked up the data pad that he had tossed to the floor earlier, “I did not _do_ anything. B-4 clearly has a temper problem, just like his brother.”

     “Brother? That’s interesting language for machines.” Carson scoffed. He shook his head in a kind of sad paternal way, which only angered Maddox further. He did not seem to notice, “Listen, Doctor, you and I are on the same page here, if for different reasons. This isn’t just some pet project for Starfleet anymore. We _need_ this. I don’t need to tell you what the war with the Dominion had done to our ranks.”

     “I am well aware of Starfleet’s personnel problems, Admiral.” Maddox replied. It wasn’t a lie, either. He was actually counting on those thinning ranks to give Starfleet more incentive to increase his resources. The downside was that they were also demanding faster results, and it wasn’t going well.

     “Good. Then you’re also aware that the retention rate for officers is the lowest it’s been in years. Young men and women don’t want to spend three years studying their asses off at the academy just so they can end up scrubbing plasma conduits for their first six years of duty. And if the enlistment rates for crewmen continue at this pace, Ensigns can look forward to menial tasks for a lot longer than that.”

     It took all Maddox had not to roll his eyes. It wasn’t that he disagreed with Carson or Starfleet’s motives. He just didn’t care about them. It was the accomplishment that mattered to him, pure and completely independent of anything else. How Starfleet chose to utilize his work once it was complete was, quite frankly, of very little concern to him. He only cared that it was put to good use, that history would record that he had brought something amazing to the forefront and that history would never be the same because of it. In hindsight, Carson’s description fit that purpose rather well. Maddox could imagine being proud of a future—a not too distant future—in which humans no longer had to concern themselves with undesirable or dangerous tasks.

     “My progress can’t be measured in the usual sense.” Maddox said as he came back around his desk, “I’m in the research and development stage here, Admiral. _Not_ production.”

     “And we never will be at this rate. I think we can assume that Lore is uninterested in…eh…helping you.” Carson said with an accusatory smirk.

     Maddox said nothing. Carson knew as well as he did that the only _help_ Lore could afford came in one of two versions. Either Lore could divulge design secrets that Dr. Soong never recorded, _if_ he even knew them, or….Well, the other option was hardly something Lore would consider.

     “You would be right in that assumption.” Maddox said tightly, “If there isn’t anything else, Admiral—.”

     “I guess all we can do is pray for another bought of ‘bad temper’, right?”

     Maddox sighed, “What?”

     “Lore.” Carson said flippantly, “With Data gone now, I seriously doubt the Federation judiciary would give him any more leeway if he screwed up. Really screwed up.”

     “He’s as much good to me in a Federation prison as he is free right now.” Maddox sneered, for he was finally starting to lose his patience. “Whether he ‘screws up’ or not doesn’t help me.”

     “You can’t be serious.” Carson smirked as he stepped away from the console and headed toward the door, “The only reason Lore is free right now was because of Data.”

     Maddox frowned. _What on Earth are you talking about?_

     “You don’t know? I had breakfast with Admiral Gleeson this morning. He was part of the dossier that oversaw Lore’s hearing after you reassembled him.” Carson laughed, “He all but admitted that the only reason the court let Lore go was because they had to maintain consistency for the sake of Commander Data. They couldn’t very well allow you to study Lore like a tricorder and at the same time tell the world that Data was a person with all the protections of the law. A little hypocritical, no?”

     Maddox opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Part of him had always suspected as much, but after a time he hadn’t given it any more thought. Did it even matter now?

     “So….” Carson continued, giving Maddox a look as if the man were an idiot, “There’s nothing to stop them from declaring him to be property now. _If_ that temper of his gets the better of him again. Though, that isn’t going happen, right? I mean, you fixed it so he isn’t violent anymore?”

     Maddox didn’t even look up. He was too lost in thought to respond to Carson’s ignorant ramblings.

     “Maddox? Are you listening to me?”

     “What? Oh, yeah. There’s little chance of that.” Maddox cupped his hand over his mouth thoughtfully, “He isn’t violent anymore.”

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

_“ **Are you familiar with the phrase ‘plausible deniability’?”**_

     “If he touches her one more time I’m going to break his neck.” Lore grumbled through clenched teeth. His firsts were already gripping the railing so tightly that the welding points were starting to separate.

     “You cannot do that. That would be bad.” B-4 said matter-of-factly.

     “Quiet, Bee!” Lore hissed as he turned his attention back to the railing. He was crouching just at the beginning of the second deck balcony overseeing the station promenade. Behind him, the corridor continued on into the depths of the second deck, but in front of him the corridor opened up onto the balcony, faced with a glass banister topped with a metal railing. He was out of view, but just barely.

     B-4 stood a few feet behind Lore, his eyes wandering over every inch of the corridor like it was some kind of art gallery. He made the same guilty smile he had made the day before, “I am not supposed to be on the station.”

     “Yeah.” Lore muttered, waving a shushing hand in B-4’s direction. He was too focused on the object of his attention on the promenade below. Specifically, at the promenade café below. At one of the small round tables, Anna sat across from a man with sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes. He smiled at something Anna said and rested his hand on top of hers.

     Lore’s eyes narrowed and he gripped the railing again. A portion of the seam buckled and split open.

     “You damaged the railing.” B-4 said, pointing.

     “Owen Warrick.” Lore muttered ruefully, once again ignoring his brother, “ _O-wen_ ….Stupid name.”

     “Doctor Warrick works with Doctor Crusher on the station.” B-4 said, “He helps fix people when they are hurt.”

     “How noble.” Lore sneered. He had the terrible urge to say more unfavorable things, but he really couldn’t considering the fact that he knew nothing about the man beyond his name and, now, what he looked like. Blake had given up the man’s name quickly enough, once Lore had cornered him at the end of an access tunnel and promised that he wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

     “How old is ‘Doctor Warrick’?” Lore asked, pronouncing the name like it was an infectious disease.

     “Thirty-one years, two months, and fourteen days.” B-4 said proudly, “I will not tell you the hours or minutes, because Geordi says that information is ‘unnecessary’.”

     Lore scoffed again. Thirty-one. He was younger than Anna! Lore wasn’t exactly attuned to contemporary human relationship norms, but he was certain that in most human romantic relationships the man was older than the woman. Or at least the same age. Oh! But what did that matter? Anna wasn’t concerned about silly human norms, especially such weak ones! Her relationship with him was proof of that. He crouched down further, and his heart seemed to sink an equal degree.

     _Does she…love him?_

     “Anna is in the café.” B-4 said, “We can go down the stairs and sit with her.”

     “Not right now.” Lore said, “And don’t tell her we were on the station this evening. Okay?”

     “Okay.” B-4 agreed, as if doing whatever Lore wanted was the most natural thing in the world. “I like the café. The replicators make cheese, and I like cheese.”

     Lore finally broke from his eagle-eyed focus, and turned to look at his brother with amusement, “Cheese?”

     “Yes!” B-4 said, still looking around the promenade, “Cheddar cheese and mozzarella cheese and—.”

     “There are hundreds of varieties of cheese.” Lore interjected, still laughing slightly, “When did you start eating? No, don’t give me the date. Describe the scenario.”

     “When we came to the station the manager had a party for the crew. They called it a ‘reception’. I wanted to talk to everyone, but Counselor Troi thought it was not good that I talked so much, so she showed me the buffet table and said I should try the cheese and I did and she said, ‘oh, thank God, I thought he would never shut up.’ And the cheese tasted very good and—.”

     “That’s great, Bee.” Lore said, stopping the deluge. “You should try blueberry muffins. I’ve actually developed a liking for—where are they going now!”

     Lore sprang to a standing position just as Anna and Owen rose from their table and started headed down the steps and across the promenade. They walked at a leisurely pace, and now that they were actually facing the direction of the balcony Lore could see their faces clearly. Anna was smiling, but he saw with some relief that it was a tense, polite smile, as if her mind were occupied elsewhere. It was the way Owen was looking at her that made Lore’s back stiffen. The man watched her face intently, his eyes a little too wide for the bright lights of the room, and his brow was wrinkled just slightly. Lore had seen that expression before. It was the way Riker looked at Troi. It was the way Dr. Soong had so often looked at his wife, Juliana. And it was definitely the way Picard looked at Crusher sometimes, though the Captain probably thought no one noticed.

     “Where are they going?” Lore asked again, as if the answer would just manifest itself. He pulled back further behind the wall, hiding his body while he could still see over the balcony. He suddenly had the horrible thought that they might be heading in the direction of the dormitory deck, toward Warrick’s quarters.

     _No! No, no, no, no…._

 “They are going to the holodeck. I like the holodeck.” B-4 said.

     Lore spun around, “How do you know that? Did Anna say something?”

     “I….” B-4 frowned, “I am sorry. I was…guessing. Anna and Dr. Warrick have gone to the holodeck before, so I…I….”

     “You _assumed_ , Bee. That’s okay. That’s logical.” Lore assured him, just as he relaxed from his own sense of relief. Yes. They were heading in the direction of the station holodeck. He leaned forward a bit more, hoping to watch them as they passed into the corridor under the balcony. What would they be doing in the holodeck? He knew Anna liked interactive holonovels, especially historical ones. She particularly liked the scenes of historical parties in which there were often lots of conversation and dancing—. _Dancing._

     _If he touches her one more time…._

“Hello, Geordi.” B-4 said brightly, “It is good to see you.”

     _Shit._ Lore stood up straight and turned around. Sure enough, there stood LaForge a few feet from B-4. He must have approached from the lift at the other end of the corridor, which left Lore a little irritated. He had probably seen Lore crouching down and peering over the promenade.

     “Evening, Bee.” Geordi said as he gave him a disapproving look, “You know you’re not supposed to be on the station right now.”

     B-4 smiled, “Screw—.”

     “—I told him to come with me, LaForge. Relax.” Lore interjected.

     Geordi leaned forward and looked over the balcony, “What are you doing?”

     “We are watching An—.”

     “Nothing!” Lore insisted as he slapped a hand over B-4’s mouth.

     Geordi looked slowly back and forth between the two of them, “Yeah, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.”

     “What do you want?” Lore asked irritably. He didn’t have time for this. He had to find a way to get down to the holodeck suite without being seen, and then after that….What exactly was he going to do after that? The image of Owen’s hand resting on Anna’s suddenly forced its way to the forefront of his mind, and he felt an intense wave of anxiety.  

     “It’s actually about the new—. Are you okay?” Geordi said.

     Lore cleared his expression quickly, for he had not realized her was frowning in an almost painful looking manner. “I’m fine.” He insisted, “What do you want?”

     Geordi sighed heavily and folded his hands in front of him, “Look, I need to ask you for a favor.”

     This was more than enough to garner Lore’s attention, if for the moment. He gave Geordi a skeptical look, for what on Earth could he want from him? “Really?” Lore said, “And what might that be?”

     “You know about the new phased propulsion system that we’re installing aboard the Enterprise?”

     “No.” Lore said with a shrug, “And I don’t care.”

     Geordi shook his head and muttered something under his breath before giving Lore a serious look, “I’m going to make this short, Lore. The new upgrades are derived from Borg systems. We’re up against a hard deadline and we are thin on people familiar with the setup. I am asking you to help us with the propulsion install.”

     Lore narrowed his eyes, “And why are you asking me?”

     “Is Lore going to join the crew?” B-4 asked, his bright eyes darting between the two men. “You could go with us when the ship leaves!”

     “I’m not going to tip-toe around this.” Geordi said, pointedly ignoring B-4’s question, “Are you familiar with transphasic warp technology or not? I have reason to believe you are.”

     “What if I am?” Lore said, suddenly defensive. This was…this was the Borg! They knew better than to talk about that. Ever.

     “ _If_ you are, I need your help!” Geordi said, exasperation finally taking him. He tossed up his hands and appeared to be making a real effort to control his temper, “Half the engineering staff is assigned to the repairs on the forward section. Another three teams have been reassigned to this ridiculous joint Federation-Bajor program on dry dock station two. I’ve got engineers wasting their time performing upgrades to hundred year old Bajoran freighters because some diplomat wants to get kudos with the Bajoran government. That leave me in one hell of a situation. Are you going to help me or not?”

     “Not!” Lore barked, “Now, if you will _excuse me,_ I’m busy—.”

     “You’re going to be banned from the station.”

     Lore stopped mid-sentence and frowned. Was that a threat or a simple statement? Considering what he knew about LaForge, it was unlikely to be a threat. “How do you know that?” Lore asked, “And why would I be banned?”

     “The station manager has complete discretion when it comes to civilian personnel. He already banned B-4 for something that was hardly his fault, do you think he’s going to hesitate to do the same with you the moment he can?” LaForge pinched the bridge of his nose irritably, “I spoke to the maintenance chief about it less than an hour ago. The only reason you haven’t been put off the station already is because your ship is impounded for two weeks. Legally, they can’t take your only mode of transportation and then tell you to leave. As soon as the impound period is done, you’re going to be banned.”

     Lore closed his eyes for a moment. This was infuriating! Here he was, in the very middle of the rat’s nest bureaucracy of the Federation, and it was all his own doing. Could he have ever imagined the day when he would voluntarily tolerate such nonsense?

     _It’s worth it. For Anna._

Lore looked at Geordi again, but didn’t say anything. His pride and natural sense of defiance was holding him back from admitting that he had been painted into a corner.  

     “Also,” Geordi said as he shifted his eyes awkwardly over the ceiling, “Hall is assigned to the same project. The, eh, same shift.”

     Lore’s frown fell slowly, to be replaced by an amazed smile, “Why, LaForge! Are you _bribing_ me?”

     “Oh, my God! Are you going to help me here, or not?”

     Lore took a step back, “Will I be guaranteed access to the station?”

     “Yes.” Geordi said with a sigh.

     “What about the impound period? When it’s over am I going to be forced to leave?”

     “Captain Picard has already applied for a docking permit for your ship.”

     Lore smiled again, this time genuinely impressed. “It seems that you’ve thought of everything. You must really need my help.”

     “You have no idea. Just….” Geordi looked over the railing again, frowning, “Just stay out of trouble. If you think you can manage that.”

     “Trouble? Me?” Lore put on a broad smile as he began to back into the corridor, “Perish the thought, LaForge.” He grabbed B-4’s sleeve and pulled him in the direction of the lift, “We have to go.”

     Geordi opened his mouth as if to object, but quickly snapped it shut and turned away, waving his hand at them, “You know what? I don’t want to know. You had just better show up tomorrow. No! Actually, we had better get started tonight.”

     “Good Bye, Geordi!” B-4 called just as Lore shoved him into the lift. Lore followed him quickly and set the lift to take them one deck down. In a very rare and very awkward turn of events, Lore did not have a plan. He hated not having a plan. What he wanted to do— _truly_ wanted to do—was hardly viable. Breaking into the holodeck to drag Anna away after breaking Owen’s hand would hardly be a _plan_ , though he loved the thought of it.

     “Where are we going?” B-4 asked as the lift doors opened and Lore walked out into a narrow grey corridor.

     “To the holodeck.” Lore replied.

     “I like the holodeck.”

     Lore walked quickly until he reached the next turn off, then stopped. He looked cautiously around the corner to see if anyone was there. Up head, the corridor ended in a kind of large pentagon, with four large doors leading to four separate holodecks. There was no one in sight, and so he walked casually toward the main control panel between two of the doors. He looked over the display quickly. All of the holodecks were currently in use. He could not tell which holodeck Anna and Owen were using.

     “Is Anna still mad at you?” B-4 asked.

     “Yes.” Lore sighed as he dropped his hands to his sides. His anger was starting to break down into something worse, something much more debilitating. He glanced at one of the closed doors with a miserable expression. He knew next to nothing about Owen Warrick, but one piece of information was perhaps the only thing that mattered. He was human. Lore was not human. That fact alone struck Lore like a battering ram. What if Anna had realized her mistake? What if she had decided that Lore had been right, that she was better off without him?

     “Anna loves you.” B-4 said.

     Lore turned and looked at his brother. He was standing near one of the doors, running his finger down the seam of the wall panel as if it fascinated him.

     “You don’t understand, Bee. That was before.” Lore said miserably.

     “But…she said so.” B-4 insisted, “Many times. She cried and said ‘it is not fair’. Then she screamed questions. ‘Why did he go back down there? What was he doing? Why did you let him go?’ I wanted to tell her the truth so she would not be sad, but I promised I would not. You cannot break a promise.”

     Lore hardly moved, and did not bother to correct B-4 this time. He just stared at him. These temporary breaks into Data’s memory were clearly outside of his control. Instead, Lore turned back toward the holosuite panel. He allowed himself a few more moments of gut wrenching self-pity until he made a conscious effort to throw it all aside. He was _not_ going to feel sorry for himself, and he certainly wasn’t going to stand aside while the most important thing in his life slipped further and further away. Not. A. Chance.

     _This is war._

     Lore pulled open the wall panel on its hinge and began repositioning chips on the isolinear board with fantastic speed.

     “What are you doing?” B-4 asked as she came to Lore’s side.

     “Go back to the ship. Go to your quarters.” Lore replied.

     B-4 frowned, “I do not like being alone. I do not like waiting in my quarters.”

     “It won’t be long. I promise.” Lore said and he finished with the chips. He closed the panel again and began working over the program display, looking through thousands of different programs.

     “How long?” B-4 asked. “I do not want to go.”

     “Are you familiar with the phrase ‘plausible deniability’?” Lore asked as he continued his fast work. He looked over his shoulder down the corridor, saw it was clear, and continued.

     “No.” B-4 replied.

     “It means that you are a terrible liar, Bee, so it would be best if you go back to your quarters now. Go. I will see you soon.”

     “Okay.” B-4 said. He turned and started walking down the corridor back toward the lift. Lore waited until he heard the lift doors close before he finished the last step of his work. He locked the program in place and ran away back down the corridor, past the lift, and made a left into an adjacent dead-end lobby. He waited at the corner, his eyes just clearing the wall so that he could watch.

     Two minutes went by before two of the holodeck doors flew open and people rushed out into their corridor. Another twenty seconds and the other two doors opened. Anna and Owen, along with another six people, emerged into the corridor with their hands desperately wrapped around their shivering bodies. Snow flurries wafted from the holodecks before the doors closed. One of the men rushed to the control panel and smacked it.

     “What the hell is going on! My program turned into some kind of arctic storm!”

     “Mine too!” Shouted another, “I couldn’t get it to deactivate at all. I think it’s some kind of program loop.”

     “God! It must have been thirty below in there!” Owen said through chattering teeth, “Are you all right?”

     Anna nodded through her spastic shivers. Lore watched as she looked long and hard at the wall panel. “Are the chips out of order?”

     One of the men turned, “Why would the chips be out of order? They were fine.”

     Anna looked away, shaking her head, “Never mind.”

     “Well, crap!” One of the men shouted, “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t think we’re fix this any time fast.”

     Owen chuckled, or tried to, through his chattering, “Well, I guess we can call an early end to the evening, huh?”

     “Yeah.” Anna muttered. She turned and looked directly down the way, but it was too late. Lore had already disappeared into a Jefferies tube hatch at the end of his dead-end corridor.

       

      

    

    


	25. Chapter 25

 

**_" They would help me at your expense."_ **

     The room was dim and perfectly silent as B-4 dipped the brush into the dark blue paint and held it a few inches from the canvas. He examined the purple swirls and orange dots of the image, an impressionistic representation of a great wormhole. The image was imperfect and the detail muddied by the painting style. A much more realistic image could have been produced by a simple illustration program, or even a holo-imager, but part of him _liked_ the painting. Part of him, which he could not understand, preferred the artistic lines and misty changes of color. He moved the paintbrush closer and, apparently separate from his own will, added a bordering shade to a purple swirl. The swirl immediately gained definition and complimented the entire piece in a much more harmonious way.

     _Do you see? It does not have to be perfect._

“I see.” B-4 said, his voice so low that is came out as barely a whisper. “It is…pretty.”

     He took up more of the blue paint and began, very slowly, to blend the shaded line into the purple. Moment by moment his actions became more fluid and purposeful, more natural to his own will.

     “I am making it better!” B-4 said proudly, his voice suddenly cutting through the dim silence.

     _It is better. Thank you. Perhaps you can start your own paintings. What would you like to paint?_

B-4 shook his head, “I like finishing your paintings. Unfinished things should be finished.”

     There was a very long pause as he continued to paint. After a few minutes he stopped painting and began to grow nervous. The brush shook in his hand, and he pulled it away before it had a chance to ruin the canvas.

     _I am here._

“Okay.” B-4 said, relieved, “I like painting.”

     _I am glad. I did not always appreciate art. I once saw it as a waste of time._

     “I know.” He replied. B-4 placed the brush into a holder and removed another, narrower brush. He looked at the painting for a long time, frowning with confusion, until he came to a decision and dipped the brush into a pot of silvery-white paint. “You can see the stars through the edges of the wormhole. They are blurry because of the event horizon.”

     _I agree. That will be a good addition._

     B-4 smiled and began very lightly dotting blurry stars into the orange hue of the event horizon. As he worked, he spoke. “Lore is going to help Geordi with the engines. He will work in engineering like before.”

     _I know._

    “When they are finished with the engine, I can ask Lore to help you. Then you can finish your paintings and Captain Picard will not have to be sad anymore—.”

    _No!_

    B-4 started violently, causing his hand to shake across the painting. A long line of white paint ran across the event horizon, ruining it.

    “Oh, no!” B-4 cried. He clenched his fists and the paintbrush snapped in his fingers. It fell to the floor, leaving a little blob of paint in the carpet.

     _I did not mean to startle you. You must not tell anyone about me. You know that._

“But…But, I thought….Do you not want them to help you?”

    _They would help me at your expense. I cannot allow that. You are just as important as me, but some will not see that._

     “But Lore will not hurt me—.”

     _I know, but not now. Let Lore help himself._

B-4 crouched down and picked up the two pieces of the broken paint brush. He placed them on the cotton pad next to the other brushes. He frowned, “Anna is mad at Lore. He is not happy.”

     _That is why you must not say anything now. We have time, we can wait. I want Lore to be happy._

“Okay.” B-4 whispered. “But, what if she does not forgive him? What if Anna stays angry and—.”

     The door chimed and B-4 turned sharply. His whispered mutterings were shut down with a sharp close of his mouth. The door chimed again.

     “Bee?” Came a voice through the door.

     “Lore!” B-4 rushed to the door and opened it. Lore stood in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest, looking none too pleased.

     “LaForge has managed to cast me as a worker bee tonight, so let’s go.” Lore grumbled. 

     “We are going to engineering?” B-4 asked

     “Yes.”

     “Okay! Oh….” B-4 expression quickly fell, “I am not supposed to be in engineering.”

     Lore narrowed his eyes, “Why the hell not? Did LaForge tell you to stay away?”

     “No.” B-4 replied, “Commander Millet does not like me. He says I do not belong in engineering.”

     Lore made a dismissive snort, “I thought something was going on there. Bee, is Millet mean to Anna?”

     “Mean?” B-4 asked, cocking his head.

     “Yes. Does he…” Lore paused, seeming to search for the appropriate phrasing, “Does he say bad things to her? About me? Does he make her unhappy?”

      B-4 opened his mouth to speak.

     _Lie._

      He paused nervously, and his eyes darted sharply away.

      _Tell him you do not know. He will only get himself into trouble._

 B-4 blinked several times, “I do not know.”

      “Mmm.” Lore grumbled and looked into the room over B-4’s shoulder. It was Data’s quarters, of course, and Lore had not been in that room since the day he convinced Data to help him leave.

     B-4 watched Lore with a growing sense of trepidation. He knew he was not supposed to tell about his secret. There were so many things that confused him, that left him frustrated and uncertain, but _that_ he knew without question. He must never tell. Bad things would happen if he told.

     “I was painting.” B-4 said suddenly, for Lore’s eyes had shifted to the canvas and easel across the room. “It is fun.”

     Lore pressed into the room and walked directly to the painting, causing B-4 to frown under an intense wave of worry. He knew that sometimes people could figure things out. He did not always understand how or why, but people often had the ability to make a conclusion about something even when the facts had not been directly presented to them. B-4 struggled to understand it, for it was a concept that was muddy and troublesome to him. Troi had called it ‘deduction’. Another time she had called it ‘intuition’. Was Lore having _intuition_ as he looked at the painting? Would he _deduce_ something?

     “It is Data’s painting. I did not paint it. He painted it before.” B-4 insisted quickly.

     Lore traced his finger just an inch from the canvas surface, following the stark white line of wet paint that B-4 had applied by mistake. “I can see that.” Lore said, somewhat indulgently, “Perhaps you should leave Data’s paintings alone. I…I don’t think he would have found this line to be an improvement.”

     What little ego B-4 had bristled suddenly, and he felt the intense urge to defend himself. He was a good painter! Good! That line was a mistake! He opened his mouth to speak, but once again felt his will leave him as the disembodied voice in his head stopped him.

     _You cannot explain yourself. Leave it._

     “I…” B-4 struggled, “It is not finished. I wanted to finish it.”

     Lore smiled, and while B-4’s ability to read emotions was pathetically weak, even he could see the smile turn sad, almost miserable. “I’m sure Data would appreciate the gesture. If he could. Come on. LaForge is probably waiting for me, and I would rather not be the object of a search.”

     “Okay.” B-4 stepped into the corridor and waited for Lore to join him. He felt better, much better. Lore had not _deduced_ anything. That was good. He knew he had to be more careful. He had to stop leaving ‘clues’. Yes. That was what they were called. When he made mistakes and said things he was not supposed to say, those things were _clues_. But he could not help himself! Sometimes people would say things, talk about things, then the images and events would drop into his mind unbidden. Not only were they there for him to see and understand, but he _felt_ as if he knew them. The memories _felt_ like his own, if only for a few moments, and the sensation was growing more intense every time it happened.

     It scared him sometimes.

     _Do not worry. I will not allow anything bad to happen._

“Okay.” B-4 muttered.

     Lore looked at him, “What?”

     “O…Okay. We are going to engineering.” B-4 said, eyes wide.

     Lore frowned for a moment, but then seemed to shrug it off, “Yeah. If anyone has anything to say about it, tell them my _presence_ relies on it.”

     They entered the lift and began the descent to main engineering. He stood slightly behind Lore, where his face was hidden, and smiled slightly. See? He could be clever too. He could trick people too, and Lore was so smart! It was not easy to trick Lore.

     _You are doing well, Bee. It is important. Thank…you…you…._

B-4 tensed suddenly, but it was not enough for Lore to notice. He could feel the voice, the presence, slipping away. He was always startled when it came, so suddenly, but it was even worse when it went away.

     “Do not go. Please.” He said silently, only his lips barely moving.

     _…sorry….Cannot always…._

_Where am I?_

“Come back!” He only thought the words as he clenched his eyes shut. This had happened before, many times. It was okay. It was okay. He would come back.

     “Do you want to hear something amusing, Bee?” Lore said as he continued to face the door. “LaForge told me that Anna would be working on the same shift with me. He was _very_ clear on it.”

     “Please come back!” B-4 cried silently as he stepped further back into the lift.

     “I suppose LaForge has no issue with bribery when he’s in a tough spot.” Lore said with a laugh, “Not that I am complaining. Anna might—Bee? What’s wrong?”

     B-4 looked up sharply. Lore had finally turned around to find his brother starring at the deck, his face contorted into an almost painful look of anxiety. B-4 looked up sharply, stumbled over several words, but said nothing. There was no guidance. He was gone again.

      “I am…I do not….” B-4 went silent with frustration.

      “Are you worried about Millet?” Lore asked. He did not look angry, but almost amused, “Bee, don’t be ridiculous. Disapproval is not something to be afraid of. In fact, if he says anything to you, just tell him you don’t like him. I would love to see his reaction to that.”

     “O...Okay.” B-4 offered quickly. He was still looking at the deck, listening intently, trying to clear his thoughts to a minimum. There was no point. He was gone. Still, he quickly recovered from his depression, for he knew that it was only temporary. This had happened many times before, and it was very likely to happy many times to come. Yes. That was it. Lore had told him that _assumptions_ were logical when based on patterns. So, he would come back. Soon.

     Data always came back.

 

***

 

     After five hours of examination and running through all of the simulations that LaForge and others had completed, Lore was thoroughly versed in what they were doing. It was, quite frankly, a little disappointing. The system was an advance, certainly, but nothing like what was _really_ possible. He wondered why they had not decided to go all the way. He shrugged as he placed the data pad back on the table and picked up another one. It was probably the result of some misguided sense of guilt. They were willing to take some Borg technology, dissect it into tiny pieces and use some of the bits, but when it came to adopting whole systems, whole methods, they got cold feet. It all struck Lore as being terribly hypocritical. Wasn’t taking _some_ Borg technology just as morally questionable as taking all of it? If so, why not get a bargain for the expense?

     He frowned suddenly. He wasn’t exactly the person to be lecturing others on their moral estimations.

     “Do you see it?” LaForge said as he passed by the control table and stopped at a nearby wall panel, “The alterations we need to make to the console interfaces?”

     “Of course.” Lore replied, “Though this interface would be far less nuanced if the crew would simply learn to read Borg code.”

     LaForge snorted, “Yeah, right. I doubt that suggestion would go down well.”

     Lore had a clipped and rather nasty reply about willful ignorance, but decided to leave it. He was making an effort to be in a good mood, for the day shift was going to start in less than an hour. Several crewmen had already arrived early, and he kept darting his eyes to the front entrance in search of Anna. He knew—he just _knew_ —if he could spend more time with her she would find a way to forgive him. He hoped. No. It went beyond hope. He _needed_ her to forgive him, and for all his self-insistent confidence he was growing more anxious by the day. He just couldn’t understand why she would spend time with this Owen if she still loved him. Anna would not purposefully try to make him jealous. She would not use cruel emotions to punish him, because Anna was not a cruel person. So, what explanation did that leave?

      _She doesn’t love me anymore. She loves_ him.

      A surge of jealously rocked through him so intense that he pushed himself back from the control table before he could smash it. He had experienced jealously only one other time in his life, but it had been nothing like this. The jealously he had felt toward Data, a result of Dr. Soong’s obvious favor for him, was dull by comparison because he had been able to rationalize it away. He had told himself that he didn’t care, that he didn’t _want_ Dr. Soong’s favor and too hell with both of them! He could tell himself that even if it wasn’t true—and it wasn’t—but that lie was not going to work here. Not at all.

     Anna was the _only_ thing he wanted.

     “Yeah, so much for a full night’s sleep.” Blake grumbled as he entered the room, breaking Lore’s reverie. He was speaking to Briggs, who was walking at his side sipping a large cup of coffee.

     “I told you to put in a room change request a week ago, but you wouldn’t listen to me.” Briggs said with a pleased shrug, “What did I tell you?”

     “Yeah, yeah.” Blake snorted, “I just hate doing that kind of stuff. You can’t just suddenly switch rooms and not have your roommate wonder why. Then it becomes a _thing_ , and people start talking. He’s not really that bad.”

     “Not that bad?” Briggs shook his head, “You just told me the guy came off shift and started talking to you while you were asleep. Just came into the room and starting talking, like it didn’t even matter that you were obviously asleep.”        

     Lore looked up with a minimum amount of interest as the two approached his position. He had not yet seen Briggs since his return, and was mildly amused when the man finally looked up and sputtered over his hot coffee.

     “Whoa!” Briggs cried, “Eh…I mean, hey. Hey, Lore.”

     Despite the foul mood Lore had just managed to work himself into, he tossed back a facetious smirk, “‘Hey’ to you too.”

     Blake snorted a laugh and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. Briggs shot him a murderous glare, “Good luck with your _crappy_ roommate.”

     Blake rolled his eyes as Briggs stalked off into the control room, then stopped on the other side of the control table. “Are you working on the propulsion install?” He asked.

     Lore examined Blake’s expression but couldn’t discern much. He replied, “Yes.”

     “Oh, thank God.” Blake said with a rushing sigh, “Commander LaForge has been going nuts, and if this thing got cancelled I was going to probably be reassigned to help out with those Bajoran freighters. That’s what my stupid roommate was complaining about at a quarter to six this morning. While I was _sleeping._ ”

     He almost managed to conceal his smile, but not completely. Lore was not accustomed to people actually being pleased over his presence. In fact, he had always been a bit surprised by Blake’s progressively easy manner around him. If he didn’t know better, he would almost suspect that Blake liked him. But Lore _did_ know better. People tolerated him, at best. That was all.

     Looking toward the entrance again, Lore’s breath stilled when Anna turned the corner and entered the room. Her hair was pulled back, but not so straight and smooth as the day before, and her eyes looked mildly lined and puffy. She did not look as if she had slept well.

     “Morning, Anna.” Blake said brightly.

     She looked up and saw both of them. Lore met her eyes and smiled instantly, his brow wrinkled in some strange mix of hope and worry that he was not even aware of.

      “Good morning, Blake. Good—.” She looked at Lore and the corners of her mouth twitched up ever so slightly, “Good morning, Lore.”

      The only thing that kept Lore from grinning like as idiot was the way Anna suddenly looked away from him and made her way into the control room. He looked after her, though, his expression hopeful.

     “Mmm.” Blake mused to himself.

     Lore shot him a look, “What?”

     Blake glanced into the control room at Anna, then turned back to Lore. He smiled, nodded, and flashed him a single thumbs up.

     Lore’s jaw fell open.

     “Blake! Give me a hand with this!” LaForge called as he half emerged from the junction room, a bunch of boxes balanced in his arms.

     Blake moved off to help Geordi, leaving Lore to stare after him.

     _What the hell was that?_

He didn’t have time to waste thinking about it. Instead, he picked up one of the data pads Geordi had given him and headed for the control room. Anna was standing at the console near the forward window. She appeared to be going through the regular formalities of logging in and checking the maintenance schedule. He headed directly for her, but hesitated.  The intense round of questions he wanted to throw at her suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea, and a new tact suggested itself. He stopped at the console near her and patted the data pad with one hand. She looked up.

     “I’ve read through all of the simulation reports and the engine strut analyses.” Lore said, forcing himself to sound nonchalant, “Where are we going to start?”

     Her jaw moved as if to speak, but she appeared at a loss.

     “You do know that LaForge asked for my help, right?” Lore continued, “That’s why I’m here. I’ve been here since midnight.”

     “Since midnight?” Anna said, the question sounding more rhetorical than anything, “He told me. I mean, he left me a message.”

     “Of course he would.” Lore smiled and decided to go ahead, full steam, “I would suggest we start with the con interfaces on the battle bridge, since we won’t interrupt anyone else’s work there.” _And they won’t interrupt us._

     She looked down and bit at her lower lip nervously. At least, Lore thought it was nervousness. She glanced up, “I’m already scheduled to do the coil realignments with Seven.”

     For a moment Lore worried that she was lying in order keep away from him, but he could quickly see that she was not. It reignited his sense of hope. She had not told him no, which she easily could have.

     “Who is ‘Seven’?” Lore asked, smirking at the strange nickname, “Can he do the realignment himself?”

     A little smile worked itself onto Anna’s face, despite the fact that she was clearly trying to resist it. “Seven of Nine isn’t a he. She…used to be a Borg.”

     His calm expression morphed into a frown. A Borg? An ex Borg? “I guess I don’t have to ask where Starfleet got the idea of using transphasic warp technology then. Why can’t she do the work herself?” He knew he was pressing too hard, which wasn’t smart, but he was so damned impatient. He always had been.

     “Her access is restricted and I’m assigned to work with her for authorization purposes. Where is B-4?”

     Lore sighed. She was trying to change the subject. “He went with Troi to the arboretum more than an hour ago. The _Titan_ is on Starfleet time zone two, so it’s already the middle of the day for her.”

     Anna nodded dumbly.

     “So, the con alterations…?”

     She looked down at the console again. “Blake can do the con alterations with you.”

     “I don’t want to work with Blake.” Lore said before he could stop himself. So much for nonchalance.

     Anna sighed and ran her hand over her hair. She looked out into the bay with a furrowed brow, as if her mind were working a mile a minute.

     He could not take it anymore. “Anna, please don’t—.”

     “You lied to me.” She whispered.

     “I know.” He said, closing his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

     She pressed her lips together tightly, her cheeks growing pink. Suddenly, she looked directly at him, “Lore….Were you on the station last night?”

     He was ready with a denial, but the strength of her dark blue eyes on him was more than he was prepared for, and they seemed to communicate the same sentiment over and over again: _You lied to me._

     “Yes.” He said.

     She drew a deep breath and the flush in her cheeks deepened, “Earlier in the evening? Around twenty-hundred hours?”

     “Yes.”

     “Near the promenade?”

     _Anna…._ “Yes.”

     She opened her mouth again but nothing came out. She bit her lower lip and simply nodded a few times, “Okay.”

     “Okay?” He leaned in closer to her. He was unsure of her meaning, but he was more hopeful now than he had been in the last two days. He stepped closer to her. A lock of her hair had come loose from behind her ear, and he automatically reached up to brush it back.

     “Where the hell is the checkout log for the calibration kit?” Briggs griped as he came stomping out of the tool room, “Anna, have you seen it?”

     Lore pulled his hand back to his side and almost groaned aloud.

     The flush in Anna’s cheeks spread rapidly up to her ears. She took a step away from Lore, “It’s, eh…I think it’s on the control table.”

     “Thanks.” Briggs headed toward he bay, oblivious, “Oh, and Commander LaForge asked me to tell everyone to look out for civilians around the ship. Apparently the station has had a lot of foreign visitors lately and Worf doesn’t have the personnel to post people at all the restricted areas. They’re just wandering around like this is some freaking tourist attraction instead of a starship.”

     “Sure.” She replied. She tapped her fingers over the console to close her login account and took a step back. Lore watched her for several long seconds while she all but glared at the floor. What he wouldn’t give to know what was going on in her mind!

     “I, um…I could talk to Blake and see if he’ll work with Seven today.”

     Lore’s chest swelled and it was all he could do not to wrap his arms around her. He managed, somehow, to rein it in. “All right. I’ll transfer the new interface programs to the battle bridge.”

     Anna, still not looking directly at him, nodded and headed out to the main bay. Lore went to the head of the control table and began the simply process of transferring the new program layouts to the battle bridge. It was a formality that LaForge insisted upon, even though Lore hardly needed them. He knew the system better than LaForge and, he was willing to bet, better than this Seven of Nine as well. Still, they would be useful to Anna, and he fully intended on allowed her to do a good portion of the work. After all, that would cause the work to go much slower, and he had no problem with that.

     After a few minutes Anna came out of the junction room along with Blake. The Ensign appeared to be trying his damnedest to hold down a knowing grin, but the man was just too much of an open book. Lore rolled his eyes and tried to ignore him, though he was not irritated very much. Anna stopped at the side of the table and began collecting several of the data-pads they would need. He glanced up at her and was certain that she looked away at the same moment. Had she been staring at him?

     _I knew it. I knew she would forgive me!_

As Lore continued to focus on his and Anna’s work preparations, Blake moved to the wall panel just behind the control table and logged in. He was the first person to notice the antsy figure hovering near the main entrance. He watched as a young woman in a long dress peered around the corner and all over the room. Everything in her physical manner, including the way she ran her eyes over every surface, announced that she did not belong there. Blake sighed. LaForge had mentioned something about civilians from the station, and he did relish the idea of playing traffic cop. Especially when the civilian in question was so…so… _wow_. Blake’s cheeks took on a pink hue, a characteristic he absolutely hated in himself, as he stepped away from the console and toward the young woman. He was still several steps away when her eyes widened and a broad grin spread across her pink lips. She was staring straight ahead.

     “Miss.” Blake said, “I’m sorry, but this is a restricted—.”

     “Hello, _Arik!_ ” She called, laughing.

     Lore’s entire figure went as tight as a steel band. He spun around, his eyes wide, “Teni?”

     She made a bashful kind of smile.

     “What the hell are you doing here!”

    

 


	26. Chapter 26

**_“I told you so.”_ **

     _Who is Arik?_

     Anna stared at the young Bajoran woman who had stopped in the middle of the room. She had noticed her a moment before Blake tried to direct her out. Perhaps she was looking for another civilian who had wandering into the restricted area? It wasn’t until she glanced at Lore that she realized something different was going on. He was stiff as a board and his eyes like disks. He spun around suddenly, bumping his hip into the control table so hard that it actually shifted.

     “Teni?” Lore gasped.

     Anna looked at the woman, confused, and saw her give Lore a kind a guilty shrug. Anna’s mind was blank for a moment as she watched the space between the two of them. Did Lore know this person? She raised her hand, just about to tap Lore on the back of his arm, when all his composure broke.

     “What are you doing here!” He cried, demanded.

     Teni jumped a little, but did not appear at all afraid, “I was in the system, so I just thought I would say hello.”

     Anna looked at Lore, for she could not think of what else to do. She was trying to react, somehow, but knew too little about what was going on. Who is this person? How does she know Lore? And why the hell would she call him Arik?

     Lore’s expression became incredulous, “‘In the system.’ What!”

     Teni folder her arms over her chest, and Anna could not help but notice that it was a substantial chest. In fact, she suddenly could not help but notice everything about the woman. She was just slightly taller than Anna with long mahogany hair and skin like a porcelain doll. Her long dress hugged a smooth, hourglass figure that could rival Seven’s physique, and that was certainly saying something.

     “Remember, I told you my cousin was coming to pick me up at Risa.” Teni continued, apparently unperturbed by Lore’s less than friendly greeting, “It turns out he’s part of some Federation good-will thing, or something. We’re here while his freighter is getting engine upgrades. I get to see Earth. Isn’t that great!”

     _Cousin? Risa?_ Anna’s expression was blank, almost numb, and did nothing to betray to unhindered turmoil beneath.

     Lore brought his hands to the sides of his head in a most uncharacteristic show of frustration. He turned around and looked at Anna, his eyes still wide. She looked at him, but her expression was empty. It only seemed to make his distress worse.

     Teni walked a little further into the room, her eyes twinkling with some kind of amusement, “Wow, you….You really look different.”

     “This is what I really look like.” Lore said through clenched teeth, “You shouldn’t be here, Teni.”

     She frowned a little, “Oh. Oh! Because of the civilian thing? It’s not like I’m some Dominion agent come to steal secrets.” She laughed, “There really should be guards or something if they don’t want people down here.”

     “That’s not what I meant!” Lore hissed.

     Anna looked at the woman again, and when she once again saw almost no reaction to Lore’s bad mood, her stomach sank. Everyone reacted badly when Lore was mad. Except her, but that was because she knew better, she knew _him._ Did this woman _know_ him too? Her brow contorted into a short burst of pain. Why did she suddenly feel sick?

     “Um….” Anna muttered absently. She took a step away from the control table just as she snatched up a tool kit she did not need, “I think I’m going to—.”

     “Anna, wait.” Lore blurted out, his eyes darting between the two of them. He looked at Teni, then at Anna, before his expression sank and something seemed to occur to him. Something troublesome.

     _Yeah,_ Anna thought, ruefully. She felt the heat rising on the back of her neck and knew, as she always did, that her cheeks were red. Damnit! She took another step away from the table. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She wasn’t thinking at all. She just knew she wanted to get away from the nausea rising in her throat, and hiding in the Jefferies tubes felt like a good way to do it.

     “Oh! You’re Anna?” Teni said, her brow rising.

     _Yeah. Who the fuck are you?_ Anna bit the side of her tongue harshly, “Yes.”

     Whether it was intentional or not, Anna could not say, but Teni’s eyes made a quick head to toe pass over Anna. She smiled.

     _@$#% &!_ Anna snatched one of the data-pads from the table, added it to her kit, and turned toward the junction room.

     “Anna!” Lore cried.

     “I’ll ask Geordi to give you a pass today. You’re clearly busy.” Anna mumbled as she moved quickly to the junction room. She didn’t know why she was fleeing like this. It was childish, stupid. She didn’t know anything about this woman and…did she care? Did she have a right to care? Hypocrisy was something people saw in the light of day, and right now she felt like a dark cloud was eating her up. She reached the junction room door, praying that Lore was not following, and immediately reached for the panel to close it behind her. When the door closed unhindered she sucked in a deep breath. She hadn’t realized she wasn’t breathing. The Jefferies tube hatch was open, the dim void calling her like an island in the sea. She climbed in and slammed it shut behind her. She paused a few seconds, waiting for the sound of the junction room door to open, waiting for Lore to come rushing after her. When she heard nothing, she was immensely relieved. Briefly. Then the worry set in.

     _Maybe he doesn’t have to explain anything. Maybe it’s all obvious._

     She rubbed her hands over her face, trying to smooth the turbulent thoughts out of her head. What the hell was wrong with her? Wasn’t this what she wanted, in some fashion? Hadn’t she decided that she needed to move on, that she already _was_ moving on? Sure, she had agreed to work with him today, but that had just been a common courtesy, right? There was no need to be nasty and uncivil. It wasn’t as if the thought of being alone with him all day had sent her insides to melt, even only for a moment. No. She had made this decision. She had thought about it!  In fact, wouldn’t it all be so much easier if Lore had a reason to direct his attentions elsewhere? Then everyone could happy.

     Anna’s gut knotted again. She tapped her badge, “Hall to Blake.”

     _“Blake here.”_

“Forget about working with Seven today. I’m going to nacelle control now.”

     _“Oh.”_ Blake replied, followed by a pause, _“But…I thought you and Lore were going to—.”_

“We can just work on our original schedule.”

     A long sigh came through the comm, _“Understood.”_

“Thanks.” She tapped her badge again and began the slow crawl to the ladder well. It was only zero seven hundred hours, but Anna already knew that she would be skipping lunch today. Her stomach was not going to allow anything else.

 

***

 

     Teni turned back to Lore, a bright open smile on her face, “Oh, she’s _very_ pretty! Kind of shy though.”

     Lore ran his hands from the side of his head and down over his face. What the hell had just happened? Everything had been going so well, and then…this! He stared at the junction room door, the door through which he _should_ be running right now, and felt his skin crawl. Why would Anna leave so quickly? Lore was an intelligent person, but his ability to conjure up possibilities that he found ridiculous was rather limited, and the idea that Anna would be jealous of Teni was something he would definitely find ridiculous. Anna knew that he loved her, that he could never love anyone else. Surely. After all, that fact was obvious. Wasn’t it?

     _Isn’t it?_ He looked at Teni again, and for a brief moment he acknowledged her overall feminine beauty. _Oh, shit. No!_

     “Damnit, Teni! What the hell are you doing here?”

     Teni frowned, the way one would at a screaming child, “I told you. I’m here with my cousin Rolt and I wanted to see how you were doing. I thought you were here because….Well, I looked you up after you told me your name and the personnel file said you lived on the _Enterprise_ before you left _,_ and here’s the _Enterprise_ , so I thought ‘what the hell?’”

     “‘What the hell’, is right!”

     “Why are you so angry?” Teni said, crossing her arms tighter, “Doesn’t everyone know where you were while you were gone and all that? I mean, does it matter?”

     Lore looked at the junction room door again. There was no point in explaining, for at this moment all he had was his own conjecture. Worried, painful conjecture. He thought of the strange blank way in which Anna had stared at Teni, and it made his shoulders tighten. This was great. This was just great!

     “Why are you here, Teni?” He asked again, and this time his voice was low and dark. He really wanted to know, and he was not thinking about her damn cousin and his stupid ship.

     Teni sighed again, about to retort with the same answer, before something in his harsh gaze stopped her. She cocked her head, confused, before realization dawned, “Oh. You mean, why didn’t I run for the hills as soon as I found how who and what you are? Is that what you mean?”

     “Yes!” He hissed.

     She shrugged, “I read the _entire_ Federation profile, Lore. Besides, you can’t be all bad. You helped me.”

     _Un—be—lievable._

Lore cast his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before throwing up his hands, “Fine. _Fine._ That’s how I’m doing, Teni. Now you can go.”

     She rolled her eyes, “Prophets! You’re still such a jerk!”

     Blake belted a laugh, which came through his hand like some sort of hiccup. Lore narrowed his eyes at Blake before he stepped to Teni’s side and applied a very serious pressure to her back, pushing her toward the exit.

     “Hey, hey! I’m going!” She said as Lore continued to press her into the corridor. She looked at Blake as they moved swiftly by, “Is he always this mean?”

     Blake could only laugh some more before as they disappeared into the corridor and Lore pulled her in the direction of the turbo lift. Once they were out of sight of main engineering, Teni spun around. A good portion of her amusement was gone, and Lore was a little surprised to see that she looked genuinely hurt.

     “Why are you being so mean to me?” She asked. She clutched her hands against her stomach in the old anxious manner he remembered, “Is it so much to want to say hello to the person who saved my life? Is this…is this because of the kiss?”

     “Shut up!” Lore turned around, checking the corridor frantically. The fact that he didn’t see anyone lessened his panic only slightly, “Be quiet, Teni!”

     Her eyes widened, “Oh, God. It _is_ , isn’t it? I don’t feel that way anymore. I swear! You told me about Anna. I wouldn’t try to—.” Teni stopped talking suddenly. Her brow furrowed in a look of intense worry, and Lore could only imagine what was going on in that head of hers.

     “You just had to come here, didn’t you?” Lore said, shaking his head, “You’ve ruined everything! She was going to forgive me, I could see it, and then you had to show up and put ridiculous ideas into her head!”

     Teni’s jaw fell open, “Oh, no. Oh, no! I’m sorry, Lore! She—she can’t think that you and me….” Teni brought her fingers to her lips and began anxiously chewing on one of her finger nails.      

     “Please, just leave. I….” He sighed. He could see that Teni was sincerely apologetic, but what did that matter? He knew better than most that apologies were next to worthless when it came to fixing anything.

     Teni looked up, still working on her finger nail, “Maybe I could talk to her, let her know that it isn’t like that.”

     “No.” He said sharply, “Just stay away from her.”

     Lore stared at her until she nodded in understanding. They were only a few yards from the turbo lift and Lore pressed her lower back again in that directly. She walked silently, her shoulders slumping in a way that really made him feel bad, but he was too worried about Anna to spare charity for anyone else, including Teni. They approached the lift and Teni stopped at the opened door. He was ready to push her in and send her on her way before she turned and gave him a devastating look. Blake would call it the ‘you-killed-my-puppy’ look.

     _I don’t need this…._

     “Lore,” Teni began with a sigh, “you said Anna had ‘almost forgiven you’. What does that mean? Is she angry at you for leaving?”

     He clenched his jaw, “Don’t worry about it. It isn’t your concern.”

     She sighed again, “I knew it. She’s really angry, isn’t she? I would be too. I told you so.”

     _I told you so!_ “Good bye, Teni.” He pressed her into the lift, gentle but firm.

     “Okay, okay. Crying out loud!” She muttered. He released her and Teni smiled, actually making a little laugh, “Ha! I knew you weren’t so mad about seeing _me_. It’s Anna you’re mad about. Well, good luck. Really, I mean that.” She pressed the panel on the wall, “Maybe I’ll talk to her if she still won’t forgive you.”

     “No—.”

     “Bye!” The lift doors hissed shut and she was gone.

     Lore groaned aloud as he turned and stomped back toward main engineering. Blake, Briggs, and an entirely oblivious LaForge stood around the control table. LaForge was focused on the screen before him, but Briggs and Blake both gave Lore uncomfortable stares.

     “Who was _that?_ ” Briggs said, giving Blake a conspiratorial look.

     “Yeah.” Blake agreed quickly.

     Lore approached the edge of the control table and slowly rested his hands on the edge. “Shut. Up.”

     LaForge looked up finally, his sleep deprived eyes rimmed in red, “What’s going on now?”

 

      


	27. Chapter 27

**_“What did you say to me?”_ **

     Deanna Troi was not a forgetful person. She always kept her client appointments and only rarely missed her weekly subspace message to her mother on Betazed, but none of that changed the fact that she had completely forgotten about Data’s will. Specifically, she had forgotten to talk to Lore _about_ Data’s will. It was the very last necessity she had to attend to, and it had completely fallen through the cracks , which was understandable. Lore’s sudden reappearance mixed with the litany of preparations she had for the _Titan’s_ departure had simply pushed it from her mind. Besides, it didn’t help that Lore had expressed zero interest in it. He had said nothing.

     Troi finished up the last bits of her lunch at the promenade café and consulted her appointment schedule. She had only two more patients to see this afternoon, and both were just regular consultations for new arrivals. She always hated those, and so did the crew. People who had no problems—or thought they didn’t—being forced to spend an hour with the ship’s shrink for no apparent reason. She usually got them to open up by simply asking them questions about their last assignment. It was amazing what people would complain about once they were safely away from their old superiors.

     She pushed her plate away and stretched her neck. It was the middle of the day for her, since the _Titan_ was on a different time zone, but it was already mid-evening for everyone else. The café was filling up with dinner goers and people freshly showered and changed from the day shift. She figured she would find Lore still in main engineering, or at least she hoped so. The last thing she wanted to do was hunt him down, possibly to Anna’s quarters. God, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Still, a part of her hoped that would be the case. If it was, she could simply send a message to his vessel and be done with it. It wasn’t just the ease of her responsibility, though, but she honestly hoped that Lore was spending time with Anna. God help her, she might be the only person on the station, in the galaxy, that felt sorry for Lore. She _actually_ felt sorry for him.

      “Is that him?” Someone nearby whispered. Troi glanced at the little café table next to hers. A man and woman sat there, eating dinner. The man was looking out over the promenade with curious intensity.

      “Oh! It _is_ him.” The woman replied, dropped her voice, “I can’t believe they let him just walk around like that.”

     Troi turned around and was not at all surprised to see Lore moving across the promenade in the direction on the aft lift. The only way to gain access to the station leg where his ship was docked was by passing through the promenade, something that Troi was sure irritated Lore to no end. He was walking quickly, which wasn’t surprising, and he looked to be in a foul mood. Also, not surprising.

     Troi stood quickly. Now was as good a time as any. She was about to step away from her table, but Lore caught sight of her and slowed. She indicated for him to come over, to which he responded with an irritated scowl.

     _Good to see you too._ Troi rolled her eyes and gave him a more insistent look, which finally prompted him to head in her direction.

     “Oh…Oh, my God.” The woman nearby whispered, “He’s coming over here!”

     “Shhh!” The man hissed nervously.

     Troi shook her head and muttered under her breath. She just hoped they were smart enough not to whisper once Lore reached them. He approached her table at full speed, stopping abruptly and staring at her.

     “What?” He demanded.

     Troi folded her hands on the table as she sat, “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you for asking. How are _you_ , Lore?”

     His jaw tightened, “Is this a ‘social call’, or do you have a point?”

     There were many people—most people—who believed that Lore had a general demeanor of nastiness by default, but Troi knew better. She could sense his emotions, knew that his level of anti-social behavior was directly linked to his mood, and right now Lore was not happy. She could sense a thin layer of frustration covering a much deeper…depression? Definitely.

     “I do have a point.” Troi retorted, “And I’ll tell you what it is when you sit down. I would rather not have a conversation with you while you’re hovering over me.”

     Lore fell into the opposing chair and crossed his arms like a petulant child. The image brought a flash of memory to Troi’s mind, reminding her of the silent therapy sessions they had both sat through so long ago. The difference was that now Lore looked upset, whereas back then he had simply looked numb.

     “I just wanted to clear up some details with you.” Troi began, “I forgot to tell you that…Data stipulated in his will that you were to have everything.”

     Lore stared at her for a moment, “What do you mean?”

     Troi shrugged, “His possessions. He left them all to you, except for certain items that he left specifically to others.”

     “Wh—.” Lore frowned, shaking his head, “Why? Why would he do that?”

     “I don’t know.” Troi said, exasperated, “You _were_ his only family, you know. Is it so difficult for you to think that Data might have…that he….”

     “Cared about me? Oh, Troi. You’re such a _romantic._ ”

     Troi shook her head slowly and pointed a finger at him, “I don’t know why I talk to you. I really don’t.” She released a frustrated sigh and began to rise from her seat.

     “I’m sorry.” He said quickly.

     She paused. Not much in his demeanor had changed, but she could sense the sincerity. It ate away at his frustration to reveal a little more of the melancholy underneath. Yep. She definitely felt sorry for him.

     “I just wanted to let you know.” Troi said, shrugging again.

     He lowered his eyes to the tabletop and furrowed his brow curiously. Troi waited for him to say something. He looked up, “Data stipulated that in his will? Explicitly?”

     “Yes.” Troi nodded.

     Lore leaned forward, “When I was supposed to be dead? That didn’t strike any of you as odd?”

     “Of course it did.” She replied, “But, I assumed that he had never updated the will, or that we had simply failed to find a more recent version. A lot of computer files were lost or corrupted from the collision.”

     He sat back, still frowning, “Data would not have neglected to update something as important as a will. If there was no newer version, than clearly he was trying to reveal me in a subtle way. I have to give him credit. It’s very theatrical.”

     Troi was ready with another retort, but she could sense the sudden shift in his emotions. He was not speaking sarcastically, but with the tiniest hint of endearment. The corners of his mouth turned up a little.

     “Yes.” Troi agreed, “He was very vague in the letter he left for me, asking me to send the message, but I think he was leaving hints to try and soften the shock. At least, it seems that way.”

     “I want to see it.” He said suddenly.

     “See what?”

     “The letter he left you. The instructions. I want to see the file.”

     Troi cocked her head with some confusion, “All right. Why?”

     Lore hesitated, shifted in his seat, “I want to analyze it for any hidden messages.”

     This surprised Troi immensely, “Why do you think there might be a hidden message? What’s going on?”

     “I don’t know. That’s why I want to analyze it. And the will too. _All_ of his files.” Lore’s voice rose as he spoke, as if this sudden decision had pulled him out of a haze, “I want to know why he told you to send that message. I want to know why he wanted me to come back.”

     Lore fell into his self-possessed stare again, while Troi looked at him incredulously. Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly be this stupid. Troi scoffed.

     “What?” Lore looked up.

     “You don’t know why?” Troi shook her head, “Lore, Data disagreed with your decision to leave, didn’t he? Didn’t you tell Beverly as much?”

     “Yes. So?”

     “ _So…_ he must have known that stupid decision of yours was going to make you miserable. He wanted you to correct your mistake. For crying out loud, Lore, he wanted you to be _happy._ ” Troi slumped back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. How many calculations per second was he capable of? How many simultaneous trains of thoughts, and yet he was still capable of being this thick? It just went to show that Lore, like Data, was more human than not.

     “Please.” Lore sneered, “You can’t expect me to believe that Data went through all this trouble, all this subterfuge, just so that I would come back and ‘be happy’. What kind of fairy tale world do you live in, Troi?”

     “All right! What happened?”

     “Excuse me?”

     “You heard me.” Troi said, narrowing her eyes at him, “You’re in a particularly nasty mood today, and that usually happens when something has upset you. So, out with it. What happened?”

     “You’re not my therapist!” He spat.

     “Someone needs to be.” She mumbled.

     He pressed his hands on the armrests, preparing to rise.

     “Fine.” She said with a shrug, “I’ll just ask Anna what happened. She’s almost due for her yearly psyche evaluations anyway. I can just push it up a few weeks—.”

     “No, don’t do that! I…I need to talk to her.” He cringed as some thought went through his mind. Troi sensed that it wasn’t pleasant.

     “All right, all right.” She said quickly, raising her hands in resignation. “So…are you going to tell me?”

     Lore leaned back in his chair and was still for several seconds. His eyes faced forward, but Troi got the distinct impression that he was not actually focusing on her. Suddenly, an amused little smirk crossed his lips. “No, not now. I don’t think I should.”

     “Why?”

     “Because I’m not interested in having the details of my personal life serve as public entertainment.” With that, Lore quickly turned his head and looked directly at the two people sitting at the table next to them. He smiled.“Boo!”

     The man gasped and the women let out a little scream, her spoon clattering into the bottom of her empty soup bowl. The man rose and took his panicked companion’s hand as they made a quick and very clumsy exit, just slow enough to not draw too much attention. They departed under the steady cover of Lore’s laughter.  He returned his eyes to Troi, who was giving his a disapproving frown.

     “You know what _, Deanna?_ I think you’re right about my ‘foul moods’. I feel much better now.” He pressed his lips against a grin, and for all her disapproval Troi couldn’t help but let the corners of her mouth turn up too. It _was_ kind of funny, after all.

     “I think you’re a bad influence.” She muttered.

     “On who?” He laughed.

     “It was a general statement.”

 

***

 

      “Seven, what’s wrong!” Anna shouted again, for what must have been the tenth time. She finally broke into a jog, for she wasn’t capable of keeping up with Seven’s long stride otherwise.

     Seven came to the end of the corridor, hesitated, then made a sharp right in the direction of the airlock corridor leading to the station. Anna managed to reach her side and gauge her expression. It was the same mixed look of worry and anger she had kept for the past ten minutes. They had been working on the interface upgrades in nacelle control when Seven had suddenly stopped talking. Her gaze had become distant as if she were trying to listen to something. Then, quite suddenly, she had bolted for the door.

     “I’m serious, Seven. If you don’t say something, I’m going to have to call Dr. Crusher!” Anna grabbed Seven’s arm with both hands. She wouldn’t have had a chance of holding her if the woman had insisted on continuing, but Seven was not completely out of it.

     “Something is wrong.” Seven insisted, her voice stunted and uncertain, “I can hear someone. My neural node is…is trying to make a signal connection.”

     Anna frowned at the vagueness of her words, “What are you talking about? You hear someone? In your head?”

     “Yes.”

     “I’m calling Dr. Crusher!” Anna stepped back and reached for her combadge. This wasn’t good. No. This was _terrible._

     “No!” Seven grabbed her hand, staying her, “I must find the source first. They may be monitoring the station comm system. If you call for medical assistance, you may alert them.”

     “Them? Come on, Seven, what are you talking about?” Anna’s eyes widened suddenly, “You don’t think it’s the Borg, do you? Trying to contact you?”

     Seven’s eyes grew dark, “It is possible.”

     _Oh, shit._ Anna felt her hands and feet grow cold. There couldn’t be Borg on the station. There just couldn’t! Everyone knew that the transwarp conduits the Borg used to enter the Alpha quadrant had been destroyed almost three years ago. There were no Borg on this side of the galaxy. It was impossible!

     “The thoughts are…mixed, but _so loud_. So…focused.” Seven’s neck twitched and she pressed her fingers to the sides of her ocular implant. She continued on, her pace quickening, “The signal is close. The closer I get, the louder the voices become.”

     “Voices? There’s more than one?” Anna asked as they reached the end of the corridor. Several crewmen moved out of their way, each of them giving Seven and Anna curious looks.

     “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Seven’s eyes darted up in a show of frustration, “At first I was certain it was one voice, but I detect multiple trains of thought, each with a very high degree of focus. It must be several minds, perhaps a dozen!” She pressed her hand to the side of her temple suddenly, her smooth face contorting into a sharp shock of pain. It left as quickly as it came. “This way.”

     Anna followed her into the promenade, their pace slowing in order to avoid too much attention. Anna began to grow uneasy. What was she doing? She knew she should call security. She should have called security the moment Seven said she heard a voice in her head! Seven continued straight across the promenade in the direction of…of the café? Anna quickly scanned the entire raised platform of comfortable people chatting and eating dinner. A Borg wasn’t exactly something that could hide in a crowd. She saw nothing, no discernible reason why Seven would be rushing in that direction. Until she spotted Lore. He was sitting at a table, speaking with Counselor Troi, and it was obvious that Seven was making a line directly for him.

     _Oh, God…._

With a sudden start, Lore turned his head and looked directly at Seven, as if he had heard her before seeing her. Unknown to Troi and Anna, whom Lore also noticed moving toward him, he suddenly become aware of a panicked voice inside his head. He shot up out of his seat and stepped behind the little table in a defensive manner.

     “You!” Seven declared, pointed an accusing finger at him, “You have a Borg transceiver! Deactivate it now!”

     Lore regarded the woman standing only a few yards from him. He had never seen her before, but it did not take a genius to figure out that this must be Seven of Nine, the ex-Borg. He directed his attention to her accusing finger, pointed at his chest, and glared. Who the hell did she think she was?

     “Deactivate yours.” He tossed back.

     “I can’t!” She countered, taking another step forward.

     Lore shifted his attention to Anna, who had stopped a few feet behind Seven and was watching the exchange with growing anxiety. All at once Lore began to consider how he would explain things to her without sounding like a liar, how he could convince her to be alone with him, and how he would broach the subject of this Owen Warrick. On the other side of his mind, yet receiving no less focus, he was running through the system upgrades he would be doing that evening, a possible decryption method for going through Data’s files, a more effective round of simulations that he could suggest to LaForge, potential explanations for why this _ex_ Borg was transmitting a neural homing signal—.

     “Stop!” Seven cried, pressing her hands to the sides of her head. It wasn’t a demand, but a screeching declaration of pain. One of her knees gave out, causing her to collapse forward onto the café steps. She screamed, clenching her eyes shut.

     Lore came around the table at the same time Anna reached out to help Seven. With a barely perceptible twitch of his head, he deactivated the Borg neural transceiver that he had installed himself more than ten years ago. Seven’s screams ceased almost immediately, but she did not recover from the floor.

     “Troi to sickbay! Medical emergency on the promenade!” Troi called as she too came to Seven’s side. A good portion of the café patrons had sprung to their feet, all curiously watching the bizarre spectacle that seemed to include Lore _and_ the ex-Borg.

     “What’s happening to her?” Anna said as she knelt at Seven’s side. “What was she saying about a neural transceiver?”

     Lore hesitated. It wasn’t exactly something he wanted to explain in the open air of the promenade with dozens of people listening. Besides, he was not entirely sure he _could_ explain. The Borg neural transceiver that rested just a few inches inside his neck was only intended to detect other Borg signals within ten yards. Any further range became dangerous, because it would essentially broadcast his presence to any Borg who happened to be nearby. At ten yards, however, it was safe to say that danger would already be a present problem. Seven and Anna had approached him from at least clear across the promenade, which was certainly outside of his range.

     He shrugged. Something must be wrong with the _Borg’s_ neural node. He knelt down next to Anna, “My thought patterns aren’t the same as humanoid brain waves. She seems to have been overwhelmed.”

     Anna’s eyes widened, “She could hear your thoughts?”

     Was it bizarre that he was capable of focusing on nothing but her, despite the fact that they were kneeling next to a half-conscious woman and being stared at by a station full of gawkers? He forced himself to look away from her, to focus on what was going on. “It would seem so.”

     It was at that moment that Seven seemed to finally collect herself. She rose with Troi’s help, still holding a hand to the side of her head. It took her a few seconds to fully become aware of her surroundings and the litany of eyes watching her. Upon seeing them, she straightened like a rod and dropped her hand from her head. She glared at Lore.

     “Explain yourself.” Seven demanded

     Lore tilted his head and scoffed, “Excuse you?”

     “Why do you possess a Borg neural transceiver?” Seven demanded, as if the very idea were some kind of crime.

     Lore glanced at Anna, forever curious to know her reaction to all things. He saw only confusion. When he faced Seven again, he put on a snarky smile, “I’m not exactly the most popular person with the good old collective. I would hardly want the Borg sneaking up on me.”

     “That is ridiculous.” Seven replied, “A neural transceiver would also alert the Borg to _your_ presence.”

     “I heard _you_ coming, didn’t I?” Lore said, tapping his temple with one finger. He did not bother to mention the short range of his own transceiver.

     Seven’s back stiffened and she gave him an appraising look, as if she were not sure if she believed him. Lore gave her an equally unpleasant look. Who was she to question him? And hadn’t she intruded on his thoughts just as much as he into hers? It wasn’t his fault if her feeble Borg-Human mind couldn’t handle a measly sixteen strains of positronic thought. He was capable of much more.

      It was at that moment that Dr. Crusher arrived on the scene with Nurse Ogawa and Dr. Warrick. Lore immediately took a step back and gave Warrick— _Owen—_ a cold, blank look. The man met his eyes for a fleeting second before he very purposefully focused them on Seven.

     “What happened?” Crusher asked as she pulled out a tricorder and waved it in Seven’s direction.

     “I am fine, Doctor.” Seven insisted, “It was merely a signal overload in my neural receiver.”

     “Neural receiver?” Owen said, also looking at his own tricorder, “I thought that was only used for inter-collective communication.”

     “It is.” Seven confirmed, giving Lore a very displeased look.

     Lore watched as everyone, including Owen, moved their eyes to Lore. Their expressions ranged from curiosity on Crusher, to accusation on Seven, but it was Owen who opened his mouth.

     “Did you adopt a Borg neural transceiver when you were collaborating with them?” Owen asked. The words left his mouth so quickly that Lore had to think the man had given the comment virtually no forward thought. But that did nothing to lessen the nasty rage that suddenly crawled up Lore’s spin like a cold breeze. Collaborate? When did he ever _collaborate_ with the Borg?

     “What did you say to me?” Lore seethed, his voice cold and threatening. He knew he shouldn’t, but the insulting reminder of his past plus the fact that this _man_ had touched Anna less than twelve hours ago was driving Lore’s temper to the edge. He took a step forward.

     Troi gasped and pressed her fingers to her lips, almost as if she were about to become ill. She stepped forward and very purposefully stood in the middle of Lore’s path. “Come with me to the arboretum. I need help with B-4.”

     Lore seemed to barely register that she was speaking. He was still looking over her shoulder at Owen, who now looked incredibly uncomfortable.

     “Lore.” Troi said again.

     He finally looked at her, “What?”

     “Come with me to the arboretum.” She said again. Her voice was relatively even, but Lore could detect the warble in her throat. She was nervous, extremely nervous.

     _Mind your own emotions, Troi._ He stepped back after giving Warrick a final sharp glance. An entire series of very unpleasant and violent thoughts rushed through his head. It was a good thing he had deactivated the transceiver. Seven might have slipped into a coma otherwise.

     “Seven, you’ve been looking unwell for days.” Anna said suddenly, “I didn’t want to say anything, Doc, but she’s been holding her head and looking tired. I just thought it was because she wasn’t getting enough sleep.”

     “I do not sleep.” Seven insisted, her tone showing her frustration. “My regeneration cycle is not at issue.”

     Dr. Crusher looked at Lore, and he was surprised to see a kind of guilty embarrassment on her face. He knew she was about to talk about something he wouldn’t like, and a part of him was at least thankful that she knew enough to feel awkward. She lowered her voice, “Lore, if you keep this…transceiver inactive for now on, I think that would be best.”

     “Why does he have it anyway?” Owen said.

     _That’s it._ Lore could feel his fists clenching of their own accord as he took another step forward. The only thing that drew his mind away from the sick wave of jealousy coursing through him was the sudden warmth of Anna’s hand on his wrist. He looked down and was surprised to see her starring at him intently. She pulled at his arm.

     “Come with me to the arboretum. We’ll go get B-4.” She said. Her voice was unbearably calm, almost stoic, which was a stressful sign in itself. He knew what she was doing. She, like Troi, was trying to extract him from the situation. They could see he was about to lose his temper and they were trying to steer him away. Some of his anger melted, only to be replaced by a strong sense of melancholy. Did Anna want him to leave for his sake, or for Owen’s? The idea that she might be protecting Owen, _from him_ , was simply too much to bear.

     “I know where the arboretum is.” He muttered. He pulled his arm out of Anna’s grasp, gently, “I can take care of B-4 by myself.”

     With that, he turned around and walked away. He pressed through the throng of people who had stopped to watch the commotion, and headed in the direction of the far turbo lift. It wasn’t until the doors had closed on him that he realized he could have been alone with Anna. He could have talked to her about Teni and explained things in the general solitude of the arboretum.

     Lore pressed his palms over his eyes and groaned. For all his billions of calculations per second and multiple trains of simultaneous thought, Lore was simply not that bright. Not that bright at all.

     _Damnit._

 

               

     

         

    


	28. Chapter 28

 

**_“You should not do that.”_ **

     Anna watched Lore cross the promenade and disappear behind the crowd of people. There was a part of her that wanted to ignore the way his voice had so suddenly changed, going from threatening to border-line miserable. That part of her also wanted to ignore the subtle slump of his shoulders as he had walked away, and it _definitely_ wanted to ignore the sting in her hand from which he had just freed himself.

     _Oh, God…._ She rubbed her eyes briefly before facing Troi and the others. Crusher was still paying attention to her tricorder scans of Seven, while Troi seemed to be contemplating something. Only Owen was looking at her. His light blue eyes were pensive.

     “You’re sure?” Crusher said again, her voice dropping in an exasperated sigh.

     “I am.” Seven insisted, “I assure you, Doctor, I am fine. It is clear that my recent incidents of ill health have been the result of my proximity to Lore’s Borg transceiver. I doubt it will be an issue any longer.”

     Crusher shook her head, “I can’t force you, I guess.”

     Anna was looking at the deck suddenly, wishing terribly that she could just crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the evening and night away. The people standing around had only just begun to return to their business, but not without making pointed glances her way. If they hadn’t known three days ago, they certain knew now. She was _that_ Starfleet officer, the one who was so _friendly_ with Lore. Most of them probably didn’t know her name, but she could feel their judgmental eyes on her like little hot pokers.

     Owen stepped to her side and knelt down slightly, bringing his eyes level with hers. It was a mannerism of his when he was trying to get her attention. “Hey.” He said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

     She lifted her head and forced her eyebrows up, “Of course. Yes. I’m just tired.”

     He glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the turbo lift, “You’re sure that’s it?”

     She nodded numbly. It was ridiculous to lie, for it wasn’t believable, but at the same time she did not want to talk to him about it. Owen was, quite honestly, the last person with whom she should be discussing anything to do with Lore. She looked up as Troi approached. The counselor’s expression was pleasant and neutral, a look she often wore when she thought her empathic abilities were making someone uncomfortable.

     “Anna, I have a favor to ask. I’m due for an appointment on the Titan. If you could go to the arboretum and see that B-4 goes back to his quarters, I would really appreciate it.”

     Anna looked to Seven, who held her hands professionally behind her back, “You have already assisted me several hours beyond your usual work schedule.” Seven said, nodding, “I will complete the remainder of the alterations myself.”

     “Thanks, Seven.”

     “Um….” Owen frowned, “Didn’t Lore just say that he was going to get B-4?”

     Anna frowned, “Yeah, but he didn’t go in that direction.”

     “Do you mind if I go with you? I would like to talk to you about something.” Owen said quietly, an encouraging smile on his face.

     Anna smiled back, awkwardly. Owen was a good man. He was kind and reliable and funny and had lots of friends. And Anna reminded herself of that, forcibly. “Sure.”

     They crossed paths with Seven as she made a line back toward the _Enterprise_ airlock. Anna and Owen traveled in the same direction, though she quickly outpaced them and disappeared in the direction of engineering. The path to the arboretum was practically vacant, as the ship was still operating on a skeleton crew of engineers.

     “What did you want to talk to me about?” Anna asked as they turned another corner and headed for the lift.

     “Several things.” He said, smiling, “First, do you want to have dinner tonight? I would have asked sooner, but I thought you were pulling a double shift today. It looks like you’re free now.”

     She ran her hands over her hair and immediately regretted the motion. It looked uncomfortable and timid. It didn’t matter that she _was_ uncomfortable. She was trying her damnedest to _be_ comfortable. “Yeah, sure.” She said quickly, before she could do otherwise, “It’s already past nineteen hundred. We can go after I get Bee.”

     Owen smiled broadly, and Anna thought for a moment that he looked almost relieved. “There’s something else, though.” He began, “I, eh…I sent a message to my uncle Luke. You know he’s head of surgery at Utopia Planetia. It turns out there are several engineering billets about to open up there. They haven’t even hit the wires yet.”

     Anna’s pace slowed as she looked up at him, “You inquired about a transfer for me?”

     “Well,” He shrugged, cleared his throat, “you have talked about wanting to leave the _Enterprise_. Get away from…things. I just thought it sounded like a good idea, and my uncle carries a lot of weight there. He would put in a good word for you.”

     Anna looked away sharply, “I shouldn’t need a _good word_.”

     “I know.” He said, “Maybe once you get away from the _Enterprise_ ….I don’t know, things might calm down.”

     Anna wasn’t sure what to say. She knew what he meant. Maybe once she got away for the _Enterprise_ people would forget about her connection to Lore and stop persecuting her for it. It was a cold realization that she detested acknowledging. She hated the word ‘persecute’. It was so overused, and fostered a victim mentality. She refused to think of herself in those terms. It didn’t matter if it was true.

     “I…I don’t know.” She said, “I’ll have to think about it.”

     “Of course.” He replied. They continued on for a few minutes, the silence between them growing thick. Eventually, Owen stopped at the last turn and took Anna’s hand. The action surprised her enough to leave her speechless. “Look, um….” He sighed, “I hope you don’t think I was being rude back there, or that I was trying to be.”

     _Rude? About Utopia Planetia?_ “What do you mean?”

     “What I said to Lore.” He clarified.

     _Oh._

“When I mentioned the Borg. I just…I just don’t want you to think I brought it up for the sake of _bringing it up._ You know?”

     Anna nodded mutely. She didn’t know what to say. Finally she managed, “I understand. Thank you.”

     “I mean, I know he’s your friend.” Owen continued, laughing awkwardly, “I wasn’t trying to offend him or rub his nose in something.”

     Anna’s eyes flashed wide. Her friend? He knew Lore was her _friend?_ She turned away, “Sure. I know. We should get going.”

     The _Enterprise_ arboretum was a large, tall space roughly the size of a secondary hanger bay. Seeing more than a few yards ahead, however, was next to impossible. The space was thick with trees and cultivated foliage, all linked to a massive and complex system of hydroponics below the floor. It all looks so real, even going so far as to have real grass and soil beneath one’s feet. Technically, it was real. Anna reached out instinctively and rubbed her finger over a wide banana leave hanging near her head. Some claimed they could tell the difference from holographic foliage, but Anna suspected that was just something people said. Virtually no one could tell the difference.

     “Where is he?” Owen asked, pushing aside a low tree branch and looking deeper into the jungle.

     “Dr. Crusher gave him a collection of hybrid tulip bulbs to tend. He’s probably over there.” Anna continued along the path and around a large curve featuring a koi pond. Over the babble of the little waterfall she was sure she heard talking. Or, more like mumbling. She came around the bend and saw the raised stone flower bed that held B-4’s tulip collection. He was standing near the bed, holding a new bulb in one hand and a small spade in the other. He carved a hole into the soil and began tucking the bulb into the dirt with an incredible amount of care, as if the thing were made of spun sugar.

     “No…mmm….pretty.” B-4 mumbled, most of his words barely intelligible.

     Anna frowned and leaned forward as B-4 paused in what he was doing. He looked off into space for a few seconds, then pulled out the freshly planted bulk, scooped some of the dirt back into the hole, and replaced the bulb.

     “Root…doctor mmm…better.” B-4 muttered, nodding his head approvingly.

     “Is he talking to himself?” Owen asked.

     B-4 jumped and spun around, his garden spade falling from his hand.

     “It’s okay, Bee. We didn’t mean to scare you.” Anna said, putting on a wide smile that she knew would calm him. He immediately lowered his hands to his sides and smiled back.

     “Hello, Anna. It is good to see you.”

     “You too, Bee.” Anna said, still smiling. It was subtle—too subtle—but she could still see tension in B-4’s face, “What are you doing?”

     “I am growing hybrid tulips.” He replied, “They are not edible and serve no medicinal purposes, but they are pretty.”

     “They look good.” Owen said. He took a cue from Anna and smiled as well, but B-4 seemed to regard him blankly.

     “Bee, this is Owen. Dr. Warrick. You know him.” Anna stepped forward. She was sure to keep a pleasant smile on her face, but a twinge of worry was growing inside her.

     “Yes. I know.” B-4 replied, “Hello, Dr. Warrick.”

     “Hello, B-4. How’s it going, mate?” Owen said, his accent giving the sentiment a cheerful quality.

     B-4 tilted his head, “I do not understand.”

     Owen frowned at Anna, to which she replied with a shrug. “He means,” Anna said, “how are you doing?”

     “I am fine. Thank you.” He replied quickly.

     Anna pressed her lips together and frowned. Considering the precarious nature of B-4’s advancement, she knew that LaForge wanted to know about any abnormal behavior right away. “Bee, who were you talking to?”

     “Talking?” B-4 said quickly, his eyes flashing wide.

     “Yes. You were saying things, but I don’t see anyone else here. Are you all right?”

     B-4 knelt down and retrieved the garden spade he had dropped. He seemed to examine it for several moments before suddenly looking up, “I was talking…to myself.”

      “Whoa.” Owen muttered, giving Anna a look.

      “Why would you do that?” Anna asked, growing concerned. It was strange to acknowledge, for she had spent so long simply avoiding B-4, that she felt so much anxiety at the idea that something might be wrong. She cared about him a great deal. B-4 needed people to look after him.

      “Humans talk to themselves.” B-4 replied, “I have seen many examples of this. I have seen you talk to yourself.”

      Anna frowned, “Me?”

      “Yes.” He nodded quickly, “You ask yourself questions sometimes. ‘Where did I put that data pad? Who the hell did the soldering on this circuit board?’ And sometimes you do not ask yourself questions, but you make statements. ‘I need a vacation. Damn, I’m hungry. One down, three to go.’

      Owen covered his mouth as he started laughing.

      “Okay, Bee, okay.” Anna said, raising her hands, “People do talk to themselves, but it’s not exactly the best human characteristic to imitate.”

      “I understand.” B-4 said, nodding. “Are you here to take me back to my quarters?”

      “Yes.”

      He frowned, “My memory does not have flaws. Unless the ship’s layout has been altered, I still know the route back to my quarters.”

      Anna smiled. This was not the first time that B-4 had expressed some kind of irritation at being led around by the hand, although it was so mild one would be hard pressed to actually call it irritation. He was probably just expressing his confusion, since he did not see other people being treated in such a way. In a sympathetic way Anna agreed with him, but she also knew better.

     “I know, but do you remember what happened that last time?” Anna said, “You ran into those school kids and they took you back to their classroom. You had purple paint all in your hair.”   

     B-4 smiled, “I helped them paint a picture!”

     “Bee, _you_ were the picture.” She said, laughing, “Come on.”

     He placed his spade on the edge of the stone flower bed and walked toward them. Owen faced Anna and gave her a kind, parting smile.

     “I left a few things running in sickbay when we got that emergency call.” He said, “I’ll join you in a few. Where would you like to go?”

     Anna hesitated at the question. With Ten Forward completely destroyed the options for where to eat were incredibly limited. It was either the promenade café, the holodeck, or a private quarters. They had no holodeck reservation, so the fact that he did not immediately suggest the café was...was….

     Anna swallowed hard and felt sweat beading on her forehead. “What do you suggest?”

      He shrugged, but Anna knew she saw a faint color in his cheeks, “The promenade sounds good. Ten minutes?”

      She nodded, “Ten minutes.”

      Owen stepped back slightly, but then reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers. The quaintness of the motion was lessened somewhat by the casual way in which he did it, as if he had been raised watching men do such things. Anna was from the Pacific Northwest, where it definitely was not a casual thing.

     “You should not do that.” B-4 said suddenly. Anna looked at him with surprise, for B-4’s voice had taken on a solid, almost stern tone.

     “I...I’m sorry?” Owen said, lowering Anna’s hand.

     “You should not do that.” He said again, “Lore would not like it.”

     “Bee!” Anna gasped. The sheen of sweat that had formed on her brow moments ago suddenly felt like a hot compress.

     “Why do you not like Lore anymore?” B-4 said, his voice fast and insistent, “Did he apologize? Apologizing is good. You should forgive people who apologize.”

     She reached for his arm, “That’s enough—.”

     “But, Lore is unhappy! He loves you very much and he told me—.”

     “Bee, stop this!” Anna shouted. She grabbed his arm but just as quickly let it go, running her hand over her eyes, “Owen, I’ll…I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?”

     Owen nodded mutely, his expression revealing nothing. He looked at B-4, then Anna, before he headed off into the thick brush of the arboretum. Anna turned back toward B-4, ready to continue this bizarre back and forth, but to her surprise he already looked chastised. His expression was bordering on horrified, and he held his hands in front of himself.

     “I am sorry, Anna.” He muttered, “I…I raised my voice at you. That is not good. People do not like raised voices.”

     She sighed in defeat, “It’s okay, Bee.” What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to correct him? Ah, hell! Did he even need correction? She could tell him that he was wrong, that he should not have come to his brother’s defense in such a way, but what kind of lesson was that to teach? She could see the concern on his face and it damn near broke her heart.

     “You just can’t always say what you’re thinking. Okay, Bee?” That’s it. She was not going to tell him that _what_ he had said was wrong. She wasn’t going to do that.

     “I know. Geordi says so sometimes. I understand.”

     “Okay. Come on, I’ll take you to your quarters.”

     B-4 nodded and followed her in the direction of the door. After a few moments, he said, “I am thinking something. Can I say it to you?”

     _Oh, God…._ “Yes. Of course.”

     “Did you miss Lore when he was away?”

     Anna sighed, “Yes. You know that.”

     “But you do not spend time with Lore now that he has come back. If you missed him, that means you wanted to spend time with him, but now you do not spend time with him. I do not understand.”

     “No, you don’t, Bee.” She said, her voice becoming clipped, “And I don’t think I can explain it to you.”

     “Okay,” B-4 said softly, “I am sorry, Anna. I will not ask any more questions.”

     She knew she should have corrected him, told him that he was not in the wrong, but she didn’t have the strength. She was so damn tired. They continued walking to Data’s—B-4’s—quarters. She left him there with a barely audible goodbye and continued onto her own quarters. She was already entertaining day dreams of a night spent curled up under her blankets, her mind blissfully lost in unconsciousness, when she reminded herself that she was having dinner with Owen in five minutes. She stopped, fought back a frustrating wave of exhaustion, and continued in the opposite direction.

 

***

  

     Bruce Maddox watched in stunned silence as the Borg woman crossed the promenade and disappeared back into the airlock corridor leading to the _Enterprise_. He had been damn near startled to death when she had come barreling toward the café only a few moments before, pointing her finger at Lore like some mad woman. Probably the most stoic madwoman anyone ever saw, but still….

     He shrank down in his seat and continued to face the window, waiting for Crusher and the other one to move on as well. They eventually moved off in their respective directions and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was a scientist, for crying out loud. He worked in a lab with schematics and simulations and research assistants. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this shit! But, science was not always clean and by the book. He knew at least that much, even if he didn’t like it. He had not yet entirely convinced himself that he wasn’t on fool’s errand, wasting precious time on something that was ludicrous, but what other choice did he have? He was nowhere with the positronic brain he had been working on. He knew it, his lab assistants knew it, and Admiral Carson knew it.

     He lifted the small data pad that had been cradled in his lap for the past hour while he sat in the café, waiting for nothing in particular. It had been a bought of good luck when Lore had suddenly crossed the promenade and Troi had called him over. To think, he had gone through all the trouble of bribing that security officer to give him remote access to the station security cameras, and Lore had simply dropped into a seat a few yards from him! Maybe this was a sign of his luck to come. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as bizarre and difficult as he had thought, and the acid burning a hole into the lining of his stomach could finally have a reason to calm down.

     He pressed a few controls on the pad and a line image of a multi-layer sound wave appeared. He glanced around for a moment before be brought the pad closer to his ear and listened.

     _“…I want to analyze it for any hidden messages.”_

_“Why do you think there might be hidden messages? What’s going on?”_

_“I don’t know. That’s why I want to analyze it. And the will too. All of his files.”_

     Maddox lowered the data pad and stared at the massive ball of Earth outside. It was probably nothing. Or it could be everything.

     

    

    


	29. Chapter 29

**_“You sound awfully confident!”_ **

     Owen Warrick stepped out of his quarters and ran the sleeve of his uniform over his brow. He wiped away a sheen of sweat so thick that it left a glistening mark across his arm. He groaned and immediately tapped his combadge.

     “Dr. Warrick to station maintenance.”

     _“Station Maintenance.”_

“Yeah, could I have someone look at the environmentals in my quarters sometime today? They aren’t responding and it’s hotter than hell in there.”

     _“Sure thing, Doc. I’ll add it to the morning rounds.”_

“Thanks. Oh, and there’s something wrong with my sonic shower too.”

     A gravelly laugh came over the line, _“Bad morning, Doc? We’ll look into it.”_

“Thanks. Warrick out.” He took a deep breath, savoring the cool air of the corridor, and started the short walk to the turbo lift. It had been one hell of a morning. One hell of a _miserable_ morning. The first thing he had noticed was the temperature. It had to be nearly a hundred degrees Fahrenheit in his quarters when he woke up this morning, which explained the fitful dreams about trying to tend an overzealous camp fire. It wasn’t until he had spent nearly five minutes trying to get the environmental controls to respond that he had realized the time. He was running more than twenty minutes late, despite the fact that he knew he had set his alarm last night.

     “Hey, Doc.” A young Ensign said as he walked by.

     “Morning.” Owen said with a forced nod. Good, God, he must look a sight! The damn sonic shower had come on all right, but after only a few seconds it had started producing a screeching sound so violent that Owen was sure the wall was going to explode. So, here he was, running late down the corridor with limp hair and a hurriedly assembled uniform. The loss of the shower plus the fact that he had woken up in a puddle of his own sweat also meant that he couldn’t possibly smell very good.

     _What a morning…._ If he didn’t have patients that morning, perhaps he would sneak away to the gymnasium and use one of the sonic showers there. That would at least be something.

     And why the hell did the back of his neck itch so badly?

     He stopped at the end of the corridor and called for the lift. He waited a few seconds, which was normal at this time of day, before the doors swished open and he stepped through. He almost immediately stepped back when he saw the only other occupant, but it was too late. The doors slammed shut behind him.

     Lore stood against the back wall of the lift with his hands clasped casually in front of him. Owen had seen just the slightest tinge of surprise on Lore’s face when he entered, but it was gone now. The android stared directly at him, his face utterly impassive.

     “Eh…hi. Hello.” Owen stammered. He immediately chastised himself. He just needed to relax.

     “Hello.” Lore replied in a deadpan voice.

     Owen swallowed hard and felt the sweat returning to his brow. He tried to look calm but snapped his hand up to the back of his neck as a new bought of itchiness assaulted him. What had he gotten into? He must have eaten something with an allergen.

     “Is something wrong, _Owen?_  You don’t look well.” Lore said, a small smile crossing his lips.

     Owen forced a smile and tried to ignore the strange way in which Lore said his name, as if he were making fun of it. “Um…no. I’m fine. Just running late.”

     “Running late.” Lore repeated, “Ah, that’s right. Humans have trouble gauging time. It must be very inconvenient to live without internal chronometers.”

     Owen chuckled. It sounded like a nervous cough. “Eh, right.”

     “In fact, you humans have to live with a lot of inconveniences.” Lore continued. As he spoke, his eyes never left Owen’s. They bored in. “Such as telling time, sleeping. _Sweating.”_

_What the hell?_

“I think sleeping is probably the greatest inconvenience. Think of all the productivity that is lost.” Lore said, smiling.

     Owen shrugged and turned to face the door, though he didn’t really. He was still watching Lore. “I guess. I would probably get a lot done if I didn’t have to sleep.”

     “Certainly.” Lore agreed. “Take my evening, for example. It was very productive. I had time to do…hmmm…all sorts of things.”

     Owen tried his damnedest to be still, but he suddenly felt as if the back of his neck was being eaten alive. He scratched furiously at it, feeling the uncomfortable heat as blood rose to the surface of his skin. He knew he had no reason to be afraid, not really. After all, Lore was on the station. Picard and the station manager and everyone else in charge would not have allowed him to remain if he were dangerous. Right? Then why did he feel so sick all of a sudden?

     “W…what kind of stuff did you do last night?” Owen muttered, hoping that small talk would lessen his unease.

     Lore hummed a little laugh, “Me? Nothing too interesting. Just boring little feats of engineering. I also did some zoological research.”

     “Really?” Owen stammered, “Why?”

     Lore shrugged, “My own interest. Did you know that the natives on Keltor Three use a microscopic gnat to clean their clothes, since water is scarce? The little creatures consume any and all organic matter they come in contact with, so the clothes come out remarkably clean.”

     Owen felt his chest constrict and a violent shudder went through him as the itching sensation traveled from his neck to his upper back. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

     “Not really.” Lore replied coolly, “An application of lavender powder drives them away, and they eat too slowly to be any kind of threat. Although, one would be quite stupid to dress in clothing that still held the gnats. I couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable that would be.”

     Owen spun around, his breath coming in quick draws. He was sweating profusely now with panic and…anger? Yes, it was anger. Why the hell not! “What did you do?” He belted suddenly, “Did you go into my quarters?”

     Lore’s eyebrows shot up, but the look of surprise was so fake it had to be intentional, “You sound unhappy, _Owen._ I was just trying to help you. Don’t you want clean clothes?”

     “Oh my God.” He muttered, stepped back. “Are you crazy?”

     “I could ask you the same question.” Lore replied, glaring. All his false humor had suddenly fallen away. He took a very purposeful step forward, making Owen painfully aware that he had nowhere to go. Lore’s eyes shifted to the deck for a moment before they fixed on Owen, “She doesn’t love you.”

     Blood boiled to the surface of Owen’s skin. His mind, telling him that any kind of confrontation was the height of stupidity, could not argue over his insane urge to defend himself. It damn near shocked him, for Owen Warrick was not a person who went looking for confrontation. He frowned, “Excuse me?”

     “You heard me. Anna doesn’t love you.” Lore scoffed a little, shaking his head, “She’s angry with me, but as soon as that passes she will be searching for a kind way to let you down. That’s Anna, always trying to make people happy even when she can’t.”

     “You sound awfully confident!” Owen spat. Oh, the words came out before he could give them a single thought, and his stomach clenched as if he had been punched. What was he doing? Trying to get himself killed?

     _Don’t be ridiculous. He isn’t going to hurt you._

     The lift came to a stop and the doors opened onto the general bustle of the promenade. Owen backed toward the door but was too frozen to actually turn and walk out. Or, he simply did not want to turn his back toward Lore.

     Lore came forward and stopped on the threshold of the door. He faced Owen directly, his honey eyes narrowing, “Stay away from Anna. I won’t tell you again.”

     Owen stood still, watching Lore cross the promenade until the doors closed and he was alone again. It wasn’t until the lift stopped on the lowest level and dinged at him that he realized how badly he was shaking.

 

***

 

     “God! There you are. I thought you weren’t going to show up.” Geordi said with a relieved sigh.

     Lore crossed the engineering bay and stopped at the control table. “‘Let not your heart be troubled,’ LaForge.”

     Geordi gave him a bemused frown, “That’s not a quote I would expect from you. Anyway, I’ve got today all figured out and if we keep to the new schedule we’ll be in good shape. I’m putting Seven of Nine on the last round of simulations, but I want you to work on the new bracing field for the port side warp coil.”

     “I already did those things.” Lore muttered.

     Geordi looked up sharply, “You what?”

     “I don’t sleep, LaForge. Where do you think my evenings go?” Lore leaned against the control table is a strange show of melancholy. His mind was elsewhere and had been all night, despite the focus he was capable of applying to engineering tasks.

     Geordi ran his fingers over the console quickly. He looked over the maintenance list he had left the night before. “Those tasks are still marked as open in the log.”

     “Of course they are.” Lore replied, “I don’t have an access code. I can’t update the log book.”

     “Right.” Geordi nodded and began making the changes in the log.

     Lore turned to glance at the engineering bay entrance. He was early, like Geordi, so he was not expecting to see Anna for nearly a half hour yet. Honestly, he was not sure what he was going do when he did see her. He was in a miserable, low mood today, despite the blustering confidence he had shown in the turbo lift. He clenched his jaw and shifted his eyes to the ceiling. He had not planned on confronting Owen Warrick in the turbo lift. He had not planned on saying anything that he said, but upon coming face to face with the man it was all he could do not to break every one of his fingers, just to make certain they didn’t touch Anna again. Of course, he would not actually do that. That was too much, even for him, but making a few minor alterations to the computer systems in the good Doctor’s quarters was _not_ too much for him.

     His lips curved up in secret smile.

     “Okay.” Geordi said as a tapped a final key, “Did you do anything else last night?”

     Lore smirked.

     “With the propulsion system.” Geordi said, rolling his eyes, “Did you do anything else with the propulsion system?”

     “The bracing field on the starboard side, the strut refits on numbers two through five, and…” He pointed to the crystalline chamber over Geordi’s shoulder, “the new hatch seal.”

     Geordi dropped his hands onto the table surface. For a moment, Lore thought he was going to have to tolerate some insipid objection, but to his immense surprise Geordi began shaking his head and smiling broadly. “Ha! Yes! Do you have any idea how much closer this gets us? We’re three—no, _four_ days ahead of schedule!”

     “You’re welcome.” Lore muttered. He didn’t care. The work he had done last night had failed miserably in distracting his mind. That was why he had decided to take the little detour to Dr. Warrick’s deck, and he had to admit that he _did_ feel a little better.

     “Commander.” Came a crisp, alto voice. Lore did not have to turn around to know that it was Seven of Nine. Her quick pace fell out of rhythm as soon as she saw him, but she recovered it quickly. She stopped at the left side of the table, opposite Lore. She gave him an appraising look.

     “I trust you will adhere to Dr. Crusher’s orders and keep your neural transceiver inactive?” She said, clasping her hands behind her back.

     Geordi groaned like he was expecting something bad, but kept his eyes on his work. Lore returned Seven’s unwavering gaze. “Crusher did not _order_ me to do anything. I am not her subordinate.”   

     Seven frowned, which was actually a minor facial change considering  her usual frosty look. She looked down and consulted the maintenance log that Geordi was actively updating. Her frown increased, “You have completed several of the strut refits.”

     Lore said nothing.

     “The new tensile matrixes require a very specialized knowledge of Borg metallurgy.” She looked directly at him, “It would appear that my initial estimation of your expertise was not unfounded.”

     Lore gave Geordi a questioning, and accusatory, look. He frowned and shrugged, “Seven here suggested that you might know a decent amount about this system.”

     “Did she?” Lore sniffed, looking back at her as Geordi walked off into the control room. It was clear that he had extensive knowledge of Borg systems, but something about the public way in which it was being volleyed around disturbed him.

     Seven fixed her eyes on him again, and this time he was certain that what he saw was not her usual passive professionalism. A muscle in her jaw was tensing. “Tell me,” She began, “did you acquire your expertise in this system from your incursions into the Borg collective consciousness, or was it gleaned from your medical experimentations on Borg drones?”

     Lore glared at the woman. He did not want to discuss this. He did not _ever_ want to discuss this. “Both.” He sneered.

     “I see.” Seven continued, her light blue eyes seeming to darken. Her movements over the control table console quickened, and she appeared to be pressing the keys with more force than necessary, “You have no moral objections to utilizing technology that you acquired through torture?”

     _Hypocrite._ “Why should I?” He snapped, “You clearly don’t.”

     “The Borg do not _torture_ people.” She clarified haughtily, “I have familiarized myself with your file, and I am well aware of the unethical experimentations that you engaged in. I do not, however, believe that knowledge should be discarded because it was gained unethically.”

     “Oh, thank you for your approval.” He said sarcastically. This woman was really starting to get on his nerves, if he had any.

     “Approval has nothing to do with it.” She continued, “It is merely the unfortunate circumstances of our current task. Starfleet will benefit immensely from this technology and will be able to utilize it for humanitarian pursuits. The moral question then becomes mute. However, your experimentations were in pursuit of—.”

     “Seven, can I get your help with this please?” Anna said, suddenly appearing at her side. Lore had been so fixed on Seven and the growing anger eating him up that he had hardly noticed her enter the room. Anna placed her hand on Seven’s forearm, giving her a gentle coax toward the control room, “It will just take a few minutes.”

     Seven nodded and turned. Just as they began walking away, Anna looked back and gave him a weak, understanding smile. Anna knew how he felt about his past. He smiled back as a warm feeling flooded through him.

     _Thank you, Anna._ A good amount of his melancholy dissolved and he immediately began thinking of a plan. The first object was to make it fast, because he could not imagine Anna would be very pleased with him once Owen contacted her and informed on him. He had to do something. Something…. He sighed and dropped his hands. It was the same problem as before. He had never had to _win_ someone, and had no idea how to go about it. He and Anna had simply…come together. There had not been any courting or dating or any of that human ceremony. He was quite proud to think that he, and Anna, were above that ritualistic nonsense. Of course they were! After all, he was not trying to get Anna to fall in love with him. She was already in love with him. She just needed to be reminded of it.

     “Morning, Lore.” Blake said as he came up to the control table. Lore watched as the ensign lazily logged in and began sorting through the day’s business with a woeful, almost pathetic demeanor. He actually leaned over the console and rested his chin on his propped up hand.

     Lore smirked at the overblown gesture, “What’s wrong with you?”

     “I got stood up.” Blake muttered.

     “Stood up.” Lore repeated. He wasn’t sure he recognized that phrase.

     “Yeah,” Blake sighed, “I guess Marita is more interested in six foot four Lieutenants than she is in me.”

     It wasn’t difficult for Lore to fill in the blanks and recognize that ‘stood up’ must be some kind of euphemism for a romantic rejection. He smirked a little, finding Blake’s near theatrical pose to be too comical. “I see.”

     “Mmm.” Blake grunted, “I guess I’m not really that upset. I mean, she was kind of difficult and cold if you think about it, and—.” Blake stopped suddenly and bit his tongue, as if he had just realized who he was talking to. Lore wasn’t exactly the buddy to whom people cried their problems.

     Lore gave Blake a genuinely confused frown, “If you don’t care for this woman, why would you be upset over her rejection?”

     “Well, eh….” Blake shrugged, “No one likes to be rejected.”

     Usually Lore was capable of at least understanding human emotions even if he did not share them, but this truly confused him. Lore did not care if people he disliked returned the sentiment. In fact, it should be preferable. Humans thought they were so complex and emotionally intelligent, but this was, as Blake might say, a no-brainer.

     “You should pursue someone you are actually attracted to, that you _like._ ” Lore said, shaking his head as if Blake were an idiot. Was this not basic emotional knowledge?

     “Easy for you to say.” Blake whined, “You already know that Anna loves you. I would just be shooting in the dark, hoping.”

     Lore’s eyes widened in a flash, and he smiled before he could help himself. Why would Blake say something like that? Did he know something Lore didn’t? Had Anna spoken to him? He was about to ask—demand—as much, when Blake’s eyes suddenly shot up and his teeth showed in an ecstatic grin.

     “Will you do me a favor?” Blake asked.

     Lore stared.

     Blake drew a deep breath, “Introduce me to Teni.”

     “What? No!” Lore balked before he could control himself.

     “Why not?” Blake continued, his voice really turning into a pathetic whine, “It’s not a big deal. Just a few minutes of your time.”

     Lore leveled a vicious scowl at Blake, but to his shock and horror it appeared to have virtually no effect. At least, it did not have the desired effect. It wasn’t that he objected to Blake’s request in principal, though the idea of making nicey-nice social introductions put a sour taste in his mouth. Rather, it was the idea of having Teni around that he objected to. If Blake became friends with Teni than she would be around Blake, and since Blake was _always_ around it would mean that Teni would be around.

     Remembering the events of the previous day, Lore looked over Blake’s shoulder into the control room. Anna quickly looked away, clearly having been watching and listening to the two of them.

     _Damnit, Blake!_ Lore leaned across the table, “What ‘introductions’? Talk to her yourself. I hardly know her.”

     Blake groaned miserably and shot Lore a dissatisfied frown. Lore raised his brow, both impressed and disgruntled at the same time. When did people start feeling so comfortable around him? He didn’t have time to think about it now. He quickly moved around the table and into the control room. He was thankful to see that Seven of Nine was on her way out, and he waited until she was gone to cross the room and approach Anna.

     “Good morning.” He said softly, smiling. Yes. Why not approach the situation with confidence?

     She hesitated, then, “Good morning.”

     “I completed several tasks last night, so LaForge is ahead of schedule.” He took the seat next to her, but it was not nearly as close as he would have liked. Hell. Virtually nothing was as close as he would have liked.

     “That’s great. Thank you.” Anna said, her eyes on the console. The fact that her passive demeanor was forced became clear when she finally broke down and started chewing on her bottom lip.

     Lore’s mind went back to his plan; the plan he did not have and had yet to even form. As with all good plans, the crux was the goal. What did he want? He wanted his life before he had made the stupid decision to leave. Specifically, he wanted the life he had had in those few precious days before Reed took Anna and almost killed her. Two days. The memory suddenly depressed him. Between the time he had told Anna he loved her and the time Reed took her had only been _two days_.

      “Will you talk to me, Anna?”

      “I….” She shifted her weight in her chair, “I’m not sure what we have to talk about.”

      “Lots of things.” He said. She was tapping her finger on the console in a quick, nervous rhythm. Lore reached out and placed his hand over hers. She gasped, but did not pull it away. He leaned closer, “Will you talk to me? Please, Anna. Have dinner with me.”

      Anna closed her eyes and her breathing increased, “I told you no last time.”

      He smiled, “I know. I will keep asking, though. Forever.”

      Her breath caught as she finally looked at him. She was silent for too long, so Lore continued.

      “Thank you for taking Seven of Nine away.” He said.

      “Oh,” She nodded, “Yes, um….I could see that she was making you uncomfortable.”

      He nodded, “So?”

      “So what?” She stammered.

      “Will you have dinner with me?” He asked again. “I just want to spend the evening with you, Anna. I don’t care if we eat or not.”

      Anna forced her eyes from his. She looked out over the bay for a few moments before her back stiffened, “Are you sure?”

      He laughed, “Absolutely.”

     “I mean, you’re sure you don’t have plans?” Her voice shook a little as she spoke, and she still wasn’t looking at him.

     Lore’s brow knitted in confusion. “What plans would I have?”

     Anna chewed her bottom lip again, her smooth features contorting into a frown, “Plans like—um….”

     “Anna, what are you—?”

     “Why don’t you want to introduce Blake to Teni?” She asked suddenly. Her voice was still shaky but there was a new defiance in it. She looked directly at him.

      Lore’s jaw moved but nothing intelligible came out. The conversation had taken a drastic turn, “I…eh…Teni is….” 

 “Were you with her while you were gone?” She asked, her voice heavy and fast, “Was that why you were so angry when she showed up?”

      “No!” Lore cried.

      She turned back toward the console, but didn’t touch it, “I...It’s understandable if you did. I mean, you were gone for almost two years.”

      _No! No, no!_ Lore darted his eyes out to the main bay, “Blake!”

      Blake’s hand slipped across the control table, nearly causing him to land face first on the surface. “Huh! What?”

      Lore pointed a finger at him, “Be at the entrance to the airlock corridor at seventeen hundred hours. I’m _introducing_ you to Teni.”

      “Really?” Blake’s eyes lit up, “Okay. Great!”

      Lore turned back to Anna and spoke in a quick, low voice, “I was never with Teni. I don’t have feelings for her. She’s just…my friend.” He closed his eyes, regretting his last words, but anything else would have been untrue. It was already obvious that he knew Teni, knew her well enough that the she would actually bother to find him and say hello. Any description less than ‘friend’ would be a lie.

     “She’s…your friend?” Anna said, testing the words.

     “Barely.” Lore insisted, “I met her on a space station that I was docked at for a time. She was attacked. I helped her get off the station and I left her on Risa.”

     “Oh.” Anna breathed. She was very still for a while, her eyes cast down in her lap.

     They were sitting in the control room in front of a massive window. Officers moved back and forth around the warp core and at any moment one of them could walk into the room. Lore didn’t care. He squeezed her hand as he leaned forward, bringing his lips just next to her ear.

     “I could never love anyone but you, Anna. Never. It isn’t _possible._ ”

     He felt her hand squeeze his. He smiled against her ear and leaned in to kiss her.

     The low hum of engineering was suddenly broken by a scream, followed immediately by a series of harsh thumping sounds. Lore and Anna rose from their chairs simultaneously and ran into the bay. The source of the thumping sound became apparent when they saw Seven of Nine writhing on the deck next to the warp core, her entire body in the throes of a violent seizure. Commander Millet stood a few feet from her with his hands raised almost defensively.  

     “What are you doing?” Anna shouted, “Hold her down!”

     Lore rushed forward before Anna could get to her, for he doubted she had to strength to still Seven’s flailing limbs. He laid his forearm across the top of her chest, just below her throat, and pressed her against the floor. He used his other hand to cradle the back of her head, which was whipping back and forth violently. He felt the warm wetness of blood cover his hand, and realized that she had already smashed the back of her head against the floor.

     “Hall to Crusher. We have a medical emergency in main engineering! Seven’s having some kind of seizure!” Anna closed out her combadge and fell to Seven’s side. Lore was holding her head well enough, but Seven’s jaw was clenching so tightly that soft tinges of pink were becoming visible over her exposed teeth. “Oh, God.” Anna gasped, “We need something soft to put between her teeth before she cracks her jaw!”

     Lore looked around. It was usually not advisable to put anything into a seizing person’s mouth, but Seven was no regular person. Her increased Borg jaw strength virtually guaranteed that she was going to do herself serious harm. He removed his hand from the back of her head and, pressing down with his palm, forced her jaw open. With no other option, he forced the side of hand between her teeth.

     Seven bit down savagely, her eyes still rolling unconsciously around. Lore immediately silenced the internal alarms that blared in his head. They will telling him that his bioplast sheeting had been breached and that the soft poly-dermic padding beneath, intended to imitated muscle and fat, was being crushed.

     “Here! Over here!” Blake called just as Crusher, Warrick, and a nurse materialized near the main entrance. They rushed over to where Seven was still flopping on the deck like a fish and Anna was making a futile attempt to hold her legs still.

     “Give me a round of Phenobarbital!” Crusher ordered. Owen produced the hypospray instantly, despite his horror struck eyes being focused squarely on the shocking scene before them.

     Crusher reached her arms around Lore’s and pressed the hypospray to Seven’s neck. A second passed, then two, before Seven’s flailing began to slow. Lore felt the pressure of her teeth lessen and then her jaw fell slack as she slipped into total unconsciousness. Her rose to his feet and stepped away so that Crusher and the others could tend to her. He looked down and took in the scene, finally seeing what everyone else was either staring at or shooting furtive glances. His entire hand was smeared with dark red blood, which had actually begun to pool into the perfect crescent bite mark on the side of his hand. It was one hell of a sight.

     “Why didn’t you help her?” Anna demanded as she approached Millet, “You were just staring at her.”

     “I was surprised.” Millet said immediately. He shot Anna a warning look, which she did not seem to acknowledge.

     “We all went through emergency medical training.” Anna continued, “She’s bleeding. What if she cracked her skull open?”

     “I think you should watch your tone, _Lieutenant._ ” Millet sneered.

     “I think the better piece of advice would be for you to watch yours.” Lore said as he stepped swiftly between the two of them. He was about to continue, when Anna gasped and reached for his hand.

     “Oh! You’re injured!” Anna turned his hand over. She did not even seem to care that she was getting Seven’s blood all over her hands.

     _Damaged_ , Lore thought, though he did not make the correction. He was too utterly pleased to have her worried attention, even if the situation as less than perfect. Actually, the situation was downright hideous.

     “Lore.” Crusher said, turning, “Did she say anything about her neural receiver before she collapsed?”

     “I didn’t see her collapse, but my transceiver is completely inactive. It has nothing to do with this. Something else is wrong with her. In fact….” He trailed off, considering, “I don’t think my transceiver was ever the problem.”

     “What do you mean?” Owen said. The man’s eyes were fixed on Anna’s hands.

     _That’s right. You lose._ Lore managed to keep his smile internal. He continued, “Seven approached me on the promenade because she could detect the regular signal being emitted by my neural transceiver, but that shouldn’t have been possible. It has a range of only ten meters, roughly. Something must have happened to cause _her_ neural node to expand its signal range. Otherwise, she would not have detected me unless I was in the same room with her.”

     Crusher looked down at Seven. Being one of the best medical minds in Starfleet was doing nothing to help with the fact that Crusher knew next to nothing about Borg physiology. She couldn’t even begin to ask intelligible questions, let alone reach any diagnosis. She looked up, “Dr. Warrick, I want you to get into contact with Starfleet Medical. Inform the Voyager doctor of what’s happened. I have a feeling we’re going to need his help.”

     Owen nodded and turned, but not without glancing at Anna once again. Anna was too absorbed and did not even appear to acknowledge him.

     “We’ll have to replace all of the sub-dermal bioplast between your knuckle and wrist, here.” Anna was saying as she turned his hand over again, her fingers pressing around the bite mark to gauge the extent of the damage. Lore suddenly remembered something he had read, and the term _Nightingale Syndrome_ entered his mind. He could certainly see why patients sometimes fell in love with their nurses.

      “Don’t worry,” Lore said, smirking, “It’s just a flesh wound.”

      “Did you use your hand as a bite suppressant?” Crusher asked. She was staring at Lore’s hand. “Lore, I’m…impressed. You probably saved her from a lot of unnecessary injury.”

      Lore frowned immediately. Why was he incapable of taking compliments or praise? They just made him so damn uncomfortable. He looked away from Crusher.

      “I have to take care of this.” He said, indicating his hand. To his dismay, Anna lowered his hand and finally acknowledged the blood beginning to dry on her fingers. Her complexion went green.

      “Eh…excuse me.” Anna said as she darted off in the direction of the rest room. Crusher and the nurse knelt at Seven’s side and propped her up by the shoulders.

     “Crusher to transporter room. Three to beam directly to sickbay.” They disappeared in a whirl of blue, leaving only Lore, Millet, and Blake behind. Lore gave Millet is an unfriendly frown.

     “So,” Blake said, breaking the awkward silence, “Seventeen hundred, huh? I wonder if I’ll time to get my hair cut.”

     Lore rolled his eyes and headed off for Data’s quarters, where he knew he would find everything he needed to repair to damaged hand.

    

      

     

     

     

    

    

     

      


	30. Chapter 30

**_“Jeeze.”_ **

     Beverly Crusher pressed herself against the bio-bed as the Doctor once again rushed past her, barely giving her room to move. The man was darting around the room like a pinball, checking diagnostic readouts on half a dozen different screen. All the while he frowned over a tricorder, his bald head shaking in an angry refusal.

     “This can’t be. It just can’t!”

     Crusher had never particularly liked EMHs, and had been grateful when the mark one version was decommissioned some years ago. But The Doctor was no typical EMH, as evidenced by the genuine concern marking his broad face.

     “Have you seen this before?” Crusher asked.

     “Yes, but…. We corrected this. This wasn’t supposed to happen again!” The Doctor lowered his tricorder miserably, and the tense atmosphere in the room was not helped by the nervous Nelly hovering in the corner. Reginald Barclay stood with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand anxiously pressing knuckles against his lips.

     “What is it? H…her cortical node again?” Barclay stammered.

      The Doctor closed his eyes. “It would appear so.”

      “Oh, God!” Barclay cried, his exclamation muffled by his hand.

      Crusher looked at both men, “I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with Borg technology, Doctor. I’ve performed several implant removals, but those were on recent assimilations, not nearly as extensive as what Seven has.”

     “Believe me, Dr. Crusher, my education in Borg physiology was very much 'as-you-go'.” He looked at Seven, who was lying prostrate on the bio-bed, her arms flatly at her sides like a statue, “I’m not sure what we can do.”

     The defeatist tone in the hologram’s voice threw her, “We haven’t even begun discussing symptoms for a differential and you sound like you’re giving up.”

     A pathetic kind of whimper escaped Barclay’s lips. The Doctor frowned and gave Crusher an understanding look, “I’ve seen this before. _Exactly_. Several years ago, Seven’s cortical node began to fail for reasons we were never able to ascertain, but were more than likely a result of her long term disconnection from the collective. There is _no way_ to repair a Borg cortical node. A malfunctioning unit must be replaced.”

     She looked at Seven, who was lying perfectly still except for a mild tick that was causing one of her eyelids to move. Crusher was not the kind of person to give up, but she got the distinct impression that these two men, Seven’s close friends, were not the type either. They clearly knew what she did not, but she asked the question anyway.

     “Can’t we build a new cortical node for her?”

     The Doctor shook his head slowly, “It’s not possible. A cortical node is not _built_ as you and I might understand it.  A fully formed and functional node takes at least three years to form in a Borg drone. That is probably why you never encountered this problem when helping newly assimilated cases. Even the Borg can’t build new nodes. If a drone’s node fails, the collective either allows it to die or replaces the node by sacrificing an older drone.”

     All the wind rushed out of Crusher’s lungs. Over the course of her medical career there had been a few instances in which she had been forced to acknowledge hopeless situations, but those moments had always come at the end of a long fight, days of research and experimentation. Despite what she was hearing, and the truth of it, she felt they were throwing in the towel too soon.

      “You said this happened before. How did you correct it?” She asked.

      The Doctor gave Barclay a look, then said, “Captain Janeway tracked down a Borg cube and took a node from a deceased drone.”

      “Well, that’s it then!” Crusher said, slapping her hand on the edge of the bed, “We have Borg cadavers. Starfleet medical has been studying them for years, since the attacks at Wolf three-five-nine. We can salvage one of the nodes and—.”

     “No.”

     “No?” 

     “If the node has been inactive too long it won’t work. We tried to use a node from a dead Borg, but too much time had passed. We’re talking hours, not years.” The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment and Crusher thought she saw a mild trembling in the man’s cheeks.

     _My God. He really is more than a hologram, isn’t he?_

     “Alright.” Crusher said, forcing her voice to a more professional tone, “Regardless of what we already know or don’t know, I’m _not_ just walking away from this.”

     The Doctor turned, “Neither am I.”

     “Let’s start at the beginning. What does a cortical node do? What are we dealing with here?”

     The Doctor placed his tricorder on the small roll around table as Crusher took a stiff seat at the nurse’s station. The crash course in Borg anatomy was about to begin.

 

***

 

     “I do not understand.” B-4 said for the third time, the statement breaking the silence for no apparent reason.

     “What don’t you understand?” Lore asked as he held a dermal regenerator over the side of his right hand, running it back and forth in slow sweeps.

     “Why would Seven of Nine bite you? Does she dislike you?”

     Lore laughed hard enough that he had to desist with the dermal regenerator for a moment, “She didn’t do it on purpose. As for the other question, I’ll assume she does.”

     “Oh.” B-4 frowned. His gold eyes focused on Lore’s hand once again, “I do not like people who dislike you.”

     As much as B-4's blind loyalty stroked his ego--and it really did--the potential consequences were troubling. “Bee,” He said slowly, “There are a lot of people who don’t like me. _Most_ people. You shouldn’t allow that to influence how you feel about someone.”

     B-4 tilted his head, “Why?”

     _Because I deserve to be disliked._ “Because you should be more concerned with how people treat _you_. Don’t worry about me.”

     “Then I should not dislike Dr. Warrick?” B-4 said, his confused eyes searching the floor, “Dr. Warrick is nice to me.”

     “No, Bee.” Lore said, a smirk crossing his lips, “ _Doctor Warrick_ can be our exception. You go right ahead and dislike him.”

     “Okay.” B-4 said, smiling. “Does Anna like you again yet?”

     Lore stopped his work again. Was he ever going to finish this? It had already taken more than five hours to redo the contouring for the sub-dermal layers, which had been more badly damaged than he initially thought. It was not an easy task considering that he had only one hand and B-4 had been virtually no help. He was on the last few steps now and his hand almost looked perfect again.

     “Almost. I think.” Lore muttered.

     “You should make her like you sooner.” He said quickly, “Hurry up.”

     “ _Hurry up_?” Lore belted a laugh. “I’m doing my best. Trust me.”

     “Okay.” B-4 sighed, reminding Lore just what a ball of sentiment his older brother was. It was one of the first critiques Dr. Soong had made after activating Lore.  _'Bee is too damn sensitive. I don't know what I was thinking with that empathic subroutine...'_ In Lore's humble opinion, their father had overcorrected the mistake with him. 

     Lore spent a few more minutes with the dermal regenerator until the side of his hand was a smooth curve of gold-white. Done. He stood from the desk and headed toward the door.

     “Where are you going?” B-4 asked.

      “I have a _ridiculous_ errand I need to attend to.”

     “What is it?”

     “I have to introduce Ensign Blake to Teni.” Lore scoffed.

     “Teni. She is the woman you talked to before.” B-4 said, eyes wide. A few hours ago, Lore had used the computer in Data’s—B-4’s—quarters to contact the Bajoran freighter operated by Teni’s cousin. It had not been difficult to locate the craft, since he knew the captain’s name, Rolt. Sensing, perhaps, that Teni would not appreciate being introduced to someone who was obviously attracted to her, Lore had merely asked her to come to the station with no clear reason. She had agreed quickly enough, all bouncing smiles and bright eyes. She had changed a lot since leaving the station. She no longer looked like a scared animal, and she walked with her head up rather than buried in a ruddy cloak. 

     “I want to go with you.”

     “Fine. Come on.”

     It was a short walk to the airlock corridor connecting the _Enterprise_ to the station. Just about the same time they reached the entrance, a smattering of running feet approached from the opposite direction. Blake slowed when he saw them, catching his breath and holding his side, despite being ten minutes early.

     “Lore! There you are!” Blake huffed, “I need to postpone, or reschedule.”

     “What?” Lore rolled his eyes.

     “I had to help install new gravity plating in the forward section. It’s filthy up there. Look at me!” Blake groaned as his waved his hands over his own frame. His uniform was rumpled, a little, and his dark brown hair was mussed out of form. Other than that, he hardly looked like a wreck. Of course, he did have some kind of dark smudge on the side of his face.

     “Hello, Blake.” B-4 said cheerfully, “How have you been?”

     “Rushed, that’s how. I need to reschedule.” He said again, pleading.

     Lore shook his head, “I’m not doing this stupid thing again. We’re doing it now.”

     “But, I—hey!” Blake cried as Lore grabbed his forearm and began pulling him through the airlock corridor. B-4 followed a few feet behind, his cheerful disposition not all effected by the struggling Ensign in front of him.

     “Oh, come on!” Blake said again. “She’s going to think I’m a slob. You only get one first impression, you know.”

     “You’re saying this to _me_?” Lore scoffed. He looked ahead and, sure enough, saw a bobbing head of long mahogany hair. Teni was standing to the side of the station entrance, her eyes roaming over the room as she twisted her fingers through a purple scarf.

     “Unless you want your _first impression_ to be that of a whiner, I suggest you shut up and stop struggling.” Lore said.

     “Okay, okay! Let me go.” Blake whispered. Lore released his arm and Blake immediately smoothed his sleeve and straightened his uniform front _.  Humans._

      “Hey, there you are!” Teni called as she bounced toward them, “I’m a little early, but—Oh!” Her eyes went directly to B-4.

     “Hello.” B-4 said.

     “Um…hello?” She looked at Lore.

     “This is my brother, B-4, but most of us call him Bee.” Lore said quickly.

     “Bee is not my name, but it is the first part of my name, so it is okay,” B-4 said proudly.

     “Oh, okay.” Teni nodded, smiling.

     Blake cleared his throat.

     _Get this over with…._ “Teni, this is Timothy Blake. He’s a Starfleet Ensign. Blake, this is Teni. Goodbye.”

     “Jeeze.” Blake muttered under his breath. He gave Teni a nervous smile. “Hi.”

     “Hello.” She smiled back, obviously a little confused.

     “Alright, I’m going back to engineering.” Lore said, turning. He waited only long enough to make sure B-4 was following him before he escaped the scene, quick as a walking pace would carry him.

 

     Blake scowled at Lore's retreating back. That was one hell of an introduction! He ran his fingers through his hair, inadvertently making it look worse.

     “I, um….” Teni shifted her weight and pulled at the two sides of her scarf, “I’m sorry about that.”

     “S…sorry?” Blake croaked. _Get it together, man!_

     “Yeah. Lore.” She said, shrugging her shoulders, “Don’t say anything, but…I think he’s still worried that I like him, even though I told him I didn’t. I’m sorry he’s forcing you to spend time with me.”

     _Forcing me?_ Blake opened his mouth to correct her, but quickly stopped, “Oh, um….Yeah. He’s not very subtle.”

     “By the prophets! No he isn’t!” She said in agreement, “Anyway, I can understand if you want to go back to your duties or something. Honestly, I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea to force someone to spent time with him. Again, I’m sorry.”

     “Well, wait a minute.” Blake said, grinning, “We’re already here, and I’m _starving._ Do you want to get dinner? The café is just over there.”

     Teni looked over her shoulder. She smiled and shrugged, totally oblivious, “Sure.”

     Blake quickly took up a walking pace beside her and tried not to stare at her an idiot. _Yes!_

***

 

     Owen Warrick tightened his grip on the med kit  and kept walking. The computer had informed him that Anna was in her quarters and he wanted to get there before she went back to engineering. Her shift was technically over, but  the _Enterprise_ crew was running ragged lately, and she would most likely be going back. He clutched the med kit more tightly, sweat sliding along the handle. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was very smart. Owen had never been the sort to play games or “connive”, which had always been one of his least favorite words. He just wasn’t that kind of person and never had been. Still, he could see that he was running out of options and time.

     Those few brief moments in engineering had shown him quite clearly how close he was to losing something wonderful. Anna was turning away from him. The way she had held Lore’s hand, worrying over him in a way Owen had never seen her do before, had startled him. She had hardly even looked at Owen, like she didn’t know he was there. Now that he knew a little bit more about Lore, he could see why.

     He had spent the last few hours doing regular checkups on _Enterprise_ crew and had managed to subtly ask questions here and there. He had learned all about Lore saving Anna in the shuttle bay, about the crash on Martzy Prime, though the crew didn’t seem to know many details about that. He didn’t need details. All he knew, all he _needed_ to know, was that Lore had saved Anna’s life several times. So, that was it. She was smitten with hero worship.

     In a way, it made him feel better and worse. Better, because it was clear to him now that her feelings for Lore were just a gratitude based infatuation; worse, because that was one hell of a thing to compete with. It left him with only one option; Anna needed to be reminded of how bad her life was, and would continue to be, because of Lore. The _Enterprise_ crew had insulated her from the more harsh realities, but he was going to make sure she remembered and made the right choice.

     _Me._

Once again, her considering telling Anna about his encounter with Lore in the turbo lift. He had to believe that she would not take kindly to it, but he just as quickly dismissed the idea. He had no proof. None. It was inconceivable, but the station maintenance crews had found no evidence of tampering in his quarters at all, and all the systems now seemed to be working perfectly. He wasn’t going to worsen the situation by giving Anna a reason to think he was a liar.

He stopped in front of Anna’s quarters and hesitated. He switched hands on the med kit, wiped his sweaty palm on his uniform, and pressed the chime. A moment later a tall Indian woman with flowing black hair and smoky eyes answered the door. She was in the middle of attaching a dangling earring to her lobe.

     “Hello, um….” She smiled awkwardly.

     “Owen.”

     “That’s right! Sorry. Anna! Company!” Jasmine stepped back into the room and bid him to enter with a small wave of her hand. She immediately went back to a nearby mirror and continued the operation with her earrings.

     Anna stepped out of the bathroom, a hairbrush in her hands. She still wore her uniform. “Owen. What are you doing here?”

     Her voice was kind enough, and she was smiling, but Owen couldn’t help but hear a tinge of disapproval in it. He bucked up his courage and raised the med kit, “I was just doing some routine checkups onboard and stopped by to tell you about the interview on Utopia Planetia.”

     Anna’s face fell, “Interview? But, I told you I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pursue that. I haven’t even thought about it.”

     “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He said quickly. He hoped he wasn’t sweating too badly. He always sweated when he lied, “My Uncle misunderstood me when I spoke to him. He thought I was making a formal request, I think, and he added your name to the interview schedule. For tomorrow evening.”

     “Owen!” Anna cringed, dropping her hands to her sides. “I have no idea if I want to leave the _Enterprise._ ”

     Of course she wasn't sure. Not now that Lore had returned. He ignored the sour taste forming in his mouth, and continued, “I know. I’m sorry. The Utopia XO is a real stickler for professional etiquette, though, so I really wouldn’t cancel on them on such short notice. Just do the interview, as a formality, and then if they offer you the billet you can just turn it down. No harm no foul. They’re going to have dozens of applicants, so it won’t be any hardship on them if you don’t take it.”

     Anna sighed heavily, but she didn’t look too upset. The talk of formalities had no doubt assuaged her worry. “Okay. I hope your uncle’s good word isn’t too good. It would be easier if they just didn’t offer me the spot.”

     _What?_ She wasn’t even going to consider taking the job now? No matter. She wasn’t going to get the billet anyway. Only a few hours ago, Owen had made a point to tell his uncle to forget about the _good word_ for Anna. That recommendation might have made a difference, but without it….Well, it wasn’t exactly common knowledge, but Owen knew that the Utopia Planetia XO had lost his niece in one of the bloody raids conducted by Lore’s altered Borg more than ten years ago.

     A fresh layer of sweat broke out on his brow. He wiped at it quickly. “So, you’ll just take a quick shuttle over to Mars and do the interview tomorrow evening?” He said, “I hate to put you out, but it will make my uncle feel better.”

     Anna sighed again, but nodded, “Of course. I wouldn’t want to embarrass him. Please, thank him for putting me on the list and everything. He didn’t have to do it.”

     “Sure. I will.” Owen nodded again. He stood awkwardly, wondering what kind of goodbye he could expect. Without thinking, and hoping that his forwardness gave a sense of inevitability, he leaned forward and kissed her quickly on the cheek, “Alright, then. I’ll see you later. Thanks, Anna.” He turned and quickly left, a forced smile covering his worried face.

     Anna stood still, a little shocked, and instinctually lifted her hand to her cheek. The knot in her stomach, which had loosened much in the last few hours, cinched tight again.

     “Mmm, mmm….” Jasmine clucked from her place near the mirror, her head shaking in a knowing fashion, “Oh, Anna, that doctor friend of yours had better watch himself. I’m guessing Lore is the jealous type?”

     Anna swallowed hard. “I’m guessing that too.”

 

 

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**_“I don’t like to think about them.”_ **

     Anna had not returned to engineering, as Lore hoped she might. It displeased him, certainly, but he was comforted by the fact that she was not with Owen. He had consulted the ship’s computer and Owen was back on the station sickbay while Anna was in her quarters. She was probably sleeping, her surmised. After all, humans could not work non-stop like he could.

     And working non-stop had become a reality, much to his irritation. Seven of Nine had not returned from sickbay, and talk was that she might never return. Ever.

     “It doesn’t look good.” Briggs said to LaForge as the man leaned over the control table, “I spoke to nurse Ogawa and she said they called up that EMH doctor from _Voyager_ and even he hasn’t made any headway. It looks really bad.”

     “Let’s not count our busted eggs before we’ve broken them.” LaForge muttered, “I’ve never met a doctor as competent as Beverly Crusher, and with help too, she’ll figure something out.”

     _No she won’t._ Lore shook his head as he continued to run through a series of operational diagnostics at fantastic speed. News traveled fast on the station, and not only had news of Seven’s collapse gotten out, but news of symptoms as well. Seizures, organ failures, brain swelling, intermittent consciousness; he knew it all. Lore had seen it all, dozens of time. He closed his eyes and tried to forget, but like always it was a pathetic wish. He could not forget.

     “I know, but….” Briggs broke off, “She’s a Borg, or was. That really complicates things. I hope she’s gonna be all right.”

     “Yeah, me too.” LaForge nodded, “And not just because she was a big help around here.”

     Lore lowered his hand from the wall panel for a moment. The work wasn’t doing much to distract him, and the thought that he now had yet another thing from which to be distracted sent a wave of anger through him. Could he not get a break, just for a moment? Was fate—if such a ridiculous thing existed—truly bearing a grudge against him? He closed his eyes and tried to wash the memories away. They were assaulting him now, in a way they had not done for some time. The faces of Borg, conscious and disconnected from the collective, came to him. Some were bloody, some twitched in painful spasms as their lungs or hearts gave out. Over and over again, he had watched as they died gruesome, painful deaths in one manner or another, for the sake of his experiment. It was little to no consolation that his experiments had eventually been fruitful, that he had indeed eventually found the answer he was looking for. So many had died in the pursuit of it. So many had suffered pain he could only imagine.

     _Like the pain Seven is suffering now._

He slammed his fingers against the panel, closing the program, and went into the control room. It wasn’t his problem. Crusher could handle it. Someone _else_ could handle it!

     “Something wrong?” LaForge said, his voice marked with irritation.

     “Nothing.” Lore snapped.

     “Mr. Personality.” LaForge grumbled, returning to his work at the control table.

     “Who is Mr. Personality?” B-4 asked as he looked up from the floor. He was kneeling next to the control table, a series of isolinear chips laid out in front of him. LaForge had given him the task of reinstalling the chips into the panel at the base of the table, a mindless matching game that was right up B-4’s alley.

     Lore smirked, “Yes, LaForge. _Who is_ Mr. Personality?”

     “Oh, God….” LaForge grumbled, giving Lore a nasty look. He faced B-4, “It’s nobody. It’s just a euphemism.” 

     “Euphemism.” B-4 repeated.

     “Yeah.” Briggs chimed in, “Like, eh, like Captain Obvious. You know?”

     “I do not know Captain Obvious. Is he assigned to the station?” B-4 asked.

     Briggs burst out laughing, until he saw the displeased look on Lore’s face. Briggs coughed a few times, but B-4 seemed delighted by the idea that he had made someone laugh.

     “Okay.” LaForge said, raising his hands, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m calling a break. It’s almost nineteen hundred and everyone needs to eat dinner.”

     “I do not need to eat dinner.” B-4 said.

     Briggs sighed and puffed out his belly, “Man, what I wouldn’t give to eat anything I want and not turn into a marshmallow. Consider yourself lucky, Bee.”

     B-4 tilted his head. “I do not think that eating could cause you to transform into a marshmallow.”

     Briggs snorted, “I beg to differ. I’m going to take off for the café, Commander. One hour?”

     “You know what? Make that two hours.” LaForge said, rubbing his eyes, “We’ve all been at it hard for days.”

     “Great.” Briggs stretched his shoulders, “I’ll be back.”

     Lore went back to the wall panel and continued what he was doing. Needless to say, he had no use for breaks. The room turned quiet as B-4 continued with his arrangement of the isolinear chips and Lore attempted to give full focus to the tasks at hand. He could not. He stopped now and again as he remembered the judgmental look on Seven of Nine’s face, accusing him of things she could only imagine. That’s right. She could _only imagine_ the pains he had caused those Borg to suffer, all in the name of the _greater good_.

     He scoffed, disgusted with himself, and turned around. B-4 was standing, looking directly at him.

     “Are you going to help Seven of Nine?”

     Lore actually took a step back, the question surprised him so much, “Why would you ask me that?”

     “Because I wish to know the answer.” B-4 said matter-of-factly.

     “What I mean is, why do you think I can help her?”

     “You performed experiments on the Borg for a long time. I saw many of your records, though you kept most of them hidden from me because you did not trust me. The records were in the same laboratory where I performed experiments on Geordi—.”

     “That’s enough, Bee! Stop it! Stop doing that!” Lore grabbed B-4 by the shoulders and shook him. “Don’t talk about those things!”

     “I am sorry.” B-4 said, his eyes wide, “Do not be angry with me.”

     Lore released him and took a step back. He tried to smile, but could not, so he ran his hands over his face instead. In a low voice, he said, “Do you know why I don’t want you to talk about those things? Do you understand why, Bee?”

     B-4 darted his eyes back and forth for several seconds, then said, “Because they make you sad.”

     Sad? Was that the correct term? Lore ground his teeth. It would have to do, “Yes. I…I don’t like to hear about them. All right? I don’t like to think about them.”

     B-4 nodded, but his expression did not display understanding. Instead, he frowned and his shoulders seemed to sink.

     “What is it? What’s wrong?” Lore pressed, sounding only a little irritated.

     B-4 frowned, “I…I am confused.”

     “About what?”

     “You will not help Seven of Nine because that would make you sad?”

     Lore stared at his brother for what felt like a long time. Technically, it was six point eight seconds, but Lore could swear they dragged. B-4’s words struck him like a punch to the face, and not some pathetic human punch either. He wanted to forget the worst parts of his past and so he was willing to ignore anything, and anyone, who interfered with that. He turned away from his brother and walked back into the control room.

     “Lore?” B-4 said.

     “Leave me alone, Bee.” He muttered, “Please.”

     B-4 returned to the panel underneath the control table and resumed his work with the chips. He did not say anything. Lore took a seat inside the empty control room and stared at the console. Too many things were running through his mind, and LaForge’s precious engines were now not even among them. He did not want to remember his past, but more importantly, he did not want anyone else to remember it. It was ridiculous to think that anyone had forgotten, but having the subject renewed afresh was not something he relished. Allowing Seven of Nine to just die, however, was not something he relished either.

      _Perhaps I don’t have to choose_. The thought came to him suddenly, along with a refreshing wave of relief. Yes. He could solve this little problem easily. In fact, now that he thought about it, he was a little disappointed in himself for not seeing the solution earlier.

      “Bee.” He called.

      “Yes?” B-4 replied.

      “I’m going to help Seven of Nine, but I don’t want you to tell anyone about it.”

      B-4 face lit up in a smile, “Okay. That is good. I will not tell anyone.”

      “Thank you.”

      He opened the storage drawer underneath a nearby console and removed a standard medium size data pad, blank. He set it into the upload cradle and, with a quick look over his shoulder to see that he was alone, began creating the first of a long series of complex files. It would take some time, but he had just shy of two hours before people started to return. With any luck, he would be done with this unpleasant business with time to spare.

 

***

    

           Lore pressed his ear to the Jefferies tube hatch and listened. He could hear two voices in the room, but both were quieter than they should be, more muffled as if another door or wall beyond separated them. Good. They were probably in the doctor's office. 

     Lore turned the handle slowly, listened again, and pushed the hatch open. When there was no objection, and the two soft voices did not cease, he swung his legs out of the tube and stood. He looked around the room quickly and confirmed that Crusher and a man whose voice he did not recognize were in the back office. The only patient in the room was Seven of Nine,  lying on a bio-bed on the other side of the room. He moved toward the bed, watching the office door, and removed the data pad from his inside jacket pocket. 

     “I don’t see how that’s possible,” The man was saying, his voice just carrying through the office door, “Her implants are too extensive. She can’t survive without them.”

      The man, whoever he was, was correct. If removing implants and Borg systems was the method Crusher was hoping to pursue, she would be disappointed. It did not matter, though. He was solving this little problem right now, and it had only taken him forty-five minutes.

      _And the deaths of thirty-six Borg._

     He brushed the thought aside. He stood next to the bio-bed and placed the data pad where he knew it would be noticed right away, directly next to Seven’s hand. He stepped back toward the Jefferies tube hatch just as the office door hissed open. Lore saw a man’s back in the doorway.

     _Damn!_ Lore darted toward the main exit, as it was much closer than the hatch. He turned into the narrow corridor and slowed. He heard no quick footsteps or raised voices. He had not been seen. He continued walking, just in case Crusher or the other man were on their way out, and entered the large expanse of the promenade. There was a chance someone would see him, but they would be unlikely to link him to the sickbay, and that was if Crusher even went around asking. He was sure he was safe. Satisfied, he continued toward the airlock corridor leading back to the _Enterprise._

     That is, until he heard a lyrical soprano voice coming from the direction of the café.

     “I didn’t really know what to do. You see, my old boss used to make me wear these _hideous_ clothes. He was such a creep. Well, I tried to tell the guy to shove off, but he just laughed at me.”

     “What a jerk!” Blake cried, his wide eyes surveying Teni with a mix of adoration and rapt attention. He was not the only one listening to Teni. Sitting at the same table, strewn with drinks and half eaten meals, were Briggs, Varek, and an apparently very amused Deanna Troi.

     “Oh! Oh! So….” Teni continued dramatically, raising her hands, “I’m just standing there not even knowing what to do when Lore walks up behind me and he’s all like ‘get out’, and Mull says something stupid like ‘mind your own business, human.’”

     “Human!” Briggs snorted a laugh, nearly inhaling some of his drink. Everyone seemed to get a kick out of the way Teni lowered her voice and put on a serious air when she imitated Lore’s words. “That must have been a shock!”

     “Not to me.” Teni said, rolling her eyes, “I thought he was human. You know, then.”

     “So?” Blake pressed, “Did the guy leave?”

     Teni’s exuberance wavered for just a moment, but Troi was likely the only person to notice it. “Oh, yeah, he left.” Teni assured them, “But he didn’t learn a thing. He came back, eventually, and that last time he was really sorry. Lore broke his wrist!”

     _Kill me._

     “Whoa!” Briggs cried.

     Varek, who had as yet said nothing, leaned forward, “I would assume that some sufficiently heinous act on Mull’s part precipitated this assault?”

     “You’re damn right.” Teni said, her eyes narrowed in a fashion that looked hardly threatening on her, “ _Mull_ broke _my_ wrist.”

     There was a collective gasp from Briggs and Blake. Varek merely raised an eyebrow, while Troi pressed the back of her hand to her lips to cover a smile.

      Lore stormed toward them.

      “Yeah, it was so great.” Teni said, laughing. “Well, great later. It wasn’t so great for me when it all happened and—Oh! Hi, Lore.”

      Lore stopped at the edge of the café steps and glared at her. “Teni! What the _hell!”_

“We’re having dinner and drinks.” Teni said, smiling. “Oh! And I met Counselor Troi. She was stopping by to have hot choocle, or something.”     

     “Chocolate.” Troi correctly kindly.

     Lore turned his fierce disapproval to her instead, for he could at least expect Troi, with her empathic abilities, to see just how intensely _pissed off_ he was. Troi merely gave him an amused shrug and sipped her drink.

     “Hey, it’s no big deal.” Blake said quickly, his face suddenly tense.

     “Yes. You should join us!” Teni said excitedly, “I know you eat and drink, after all. Unless you were just doing that to fool me.” She giggled, “Besides, I’m not the only one telling stories. Did you really give Blake a panic attack because he accidently fell on you? That’s not very nice.”

     Lore shot another angry look directly at Troi, as if she were the adult present and should have stopped everything by now.

     “Teni also told us that you were going to take her to Bajor.” Troi said calmly.

     “Yep!” Teni supplied happily, “Prophets! I would have been stuck in that horrible place forever! I know I’ve already said it plenty of times, but thank you, Lore. Really.”

     Deanna Troi sat up in her seat and leveled a very straight and serious look at Lore, despite her lips being marked by a smile. “I must say, Lore. I never knew you were such a sweetheart.”

       _Sweetheart!_ She might as well have cursed him with every four letter word known to man before colorfully questioning his lineage. That was it! That _was it!_ He clenched his fists as his sides, gave each of them a truly disgusted glare, and stormed away from them. As he stomped into the airlock corridor, giving no passage to people in his way, he fumed inside. He hated humans. Hated every last of them. And Bajorans too, _and_ Vulcans! Yes, he was sure of it this time.

      Pity he couldn’t seem to bear life without them. 

    

    


	32. Chapter 32

 

**_"Shut up, Blake!"_ **

 

     The interior of the _Enterprise_ bustled with more activity than it had seen in a while. The first rounds of crewmembers, who had taken leave immediately upon the _Enterprise_ arriving at Earth, were returning. The next groups would soon be taking their leave, rushing off to all point of the Earthly globe to sightsee or visit relatives. It was obvious that many of the crewmembers had spent their leave out of doors, since a good number of the returning complexions were marked with glowing tans or, in a few cases, outright sunburns.

     B-4 took in the throng of passing people with fascination, as he often did when he was in the company of a lot of people. It had not always been that way. In the short time just after his activation, he had been unable to disassociate large pressing crowds of people from the angry group of colonists that had attacked him so many years ago. They had been so angry, he remembered. They had not called him names or shouted at him. No, it had been worse than that. They had not spoken to him at all, as if it made no sense to talk to him. Instead, they had cursed Doctor and Mrs. Soong before they began pulling him apart.

     B-4 backed against a wall suddenly, fear gripping him as a throng of crewmen walked by.

     _It is all right. You are safe here._

His shoulders came down, slowly, and B-4 nodded. Yes. He knew that. When the fear came, which was not so often now, Data always told him it was all right. He continued along his way, smiling at the crewmembers as they walked by. Most of them carried luggage on their backs and laughed with their friends about things they had seen or done. Most of them spared a smile for B-4, some waving to him. It made the fear completely melt away. Data was right. The humans here were nice. He did not have to be afraid.

     A small amount of pressure struck B-4 in the hip suddenly, followed by a hollow little thud. He looked down to see Margaret Harney sitting on the deck where she had fallen backward. The little girl had run into him.

     “Hello, Margaret Harney.” B-4 said, “How are you?”

     “I fell, Mr. B-4.” Margaret said with all the exaggerated impatience of a six year old, “You’re blocking the hall way, silly.”

     B-4 looked around him. He was standing at the junction of a ‘T’ in the corridor, well out of the way of passing traffic. He looked at Margaret again, “I am not blocking the passage.”

     She sighed and put her little hands on her little hips, “Uh huh. Yes you are.”

     “I am not.” B-4 insisted.

     “Are!”

     “That is not a complete statement.”

     “Then why did I run into you if you weren’t in the way? You’re silly.” Margaret picked up a little bag she had been carrying, which appeared to be stuffed into the shape of a flop-eared dog. “ _I_ was on vacation. I was at the beach and I saw a shark!”

     “Sharks are dangerous aquatic predators.” B-4 said.

     “Well, duh!” She said, wrinkling her nose at him, “I wasn’t swimming with the sharks. They have a fence thing and the sharks can’t get in the fence. You could swim right up to the fence and say ‘hey, you, stupid shark! Nay!’” She giggled wildly, obviously finding this scenario pleasant.

     “I could not.” B-4 corrected, “I cannot swim.”

     The little girl gasped and pressed her hands to her plump little cheeks, “You can’t swim! I’ve never met a grown-up who couldn’t swim! Your mom and dad should have taught you how.”

     B-4 was about to correct her further when a hurried woman rushed up to them. It was Nurse Harney. She was breathing hard and carrying several pieces of luggage. “There you are!” She gasped, “I’m sorry, Mr. B-4. Did she hold you up?”

     “I do not believe the child would have sufficient physical strength to lift me.” B-4 said with a smile. He often found such things funny. Humans could be so…silly…sometimes. He liked the new word.

     Nurse Harney burst out laughing, “That’s good, B-4. Pretty funny. Come on, Maggie, we need to get settled back in.”

     “Okay.” Maggie sighed heavily. She gave B-4 a boisterous wave, “Bye!”

     “Goodbye.” B-4 said brightly. He continued along his path to his quarters alone, a fact that pleased him for some strange reason. Lore did not feel the need to escort him back to his quarters, but had simply told him to ‘do whatever’, since Lore had to go to the station. Since ‘whatever’ was not something B-4 was accustomed to, he had decided to return to his quarters.

     That had been a half hour ago. It was not B-4’s fault, of course, that the _Enterprise_ contained so many fascinating things. First he had taken a detour in the direction of the science lab when he heard yelling. Two crewmembers were arguing about their respective assignments. Then, he had been turned in another direction when he saw a small green and yellow bird fluttering its way through the corridor. It was being chased by a teenage boy who insisted his mother was going to kill him for letting it escape. This concerned B-4 greatly, as homicide is wrong in all instances, including those of bird escapes. He was calmed, however, when he retrieved the fowl and the boy assured him that his mother would in fact not murder him.

     Now, he was only three doors away from his quarters and already planning a paint removal process to correct the line he had inadvertently placed on Data’s painting. Data would help him fix it.

     He stopped as he turned the corner. Just outside of his door, Bruce Maddox was walking toward him.

     “Hello, B-4. I didn’t expect to see you.” Maddox said with a grin.

     B-4’s eyes widened, “Hello, Captain Maddox.”

     “I was just passing through.” Maddox said, shrugging a shoulder, “I was actually hoping to run into you at some point. I just wanted to apologize about our last encounter. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

     B-4, who was naively partial to apologies and pleasantries, smiled, “Okay! I am sorry I struck you. I did not wish to harm you.”

     “I know, I know.” Maddox said, waving his hand, “In any case, I won’t be examining you anymore. Your positronic brain isn’t….It isn’t what I need to help me, let’s say.”

     B-4 smiled again.

     _Do not believe him._

The smile faded.

      _Ask him what he is doing here._

“What are you doing here?” B-4 asked, his voice suddenly empty.

     Maddox stiffened. Clearly he had not expected this. He shook his head, “Nothing much. Just hoping to see Lore and perhaps speak to him.”

     B-4 did not even need Data’s counsel to know that Maddox’s statement was a lie. Lying was bad, most of the time, and B-4 did not like it. He was about to tell Maddox as much.

     _Do not speak to him. Go to your quarters._

B-4 walked past Maddox quickly, without looking at him, and entered his quarters. Without Data’s instruction, he turned and locked the door behind him. B-4 could feel his unease returning, the same unease he felt when he thought about the colonists and all those waking months in the dark box. He crossed the room and entered the bathroom. He closed that door as well, locked it, and stood back in the dark space. Unlike humans, B-4’s fear was not expressed in quick breaths or a pounding pulse. Instead, B-4 stopped breathing all together. He pressed his back against the wall next to the door and was quiet, so quiet that no human would ever hear him.

     _Do not be afraid. Lore will not let Maddox hurt you._

     B-4 shook his head. What if Lore could not do anything to help? What if he got hurt or went away? Where would Lore go if Anna did not forgive him?

     _These are too many questions, Bee, too many worries. You cannot allow them to cripple you._

     “I do not wish to be afraid.” He whispered into the dark.

     _You do not have to be afraid. You have many friends, Bee. They will not allow anything to happen to you. You know that._

“Yes. I know. Anna is my friend. Geordi is my friend.”

     _Yes._

“Margaret Harney is my friend, but she is too little to protect me.”

     Despite not actually ‘hearing’ Data’s voice in any kind of audible way, B-4 could detect a sense of amusement that also affected him. He smiled and laughed.

     _As I said, you have many friends._

     “Yes. Yes!” B-4 smiled happily and opened his eyes to the dark again. His moods could shift so quickly, in the blink of an eye. “I wish to paint. Do you wish to paint?”

     _Yes. That is fine._

B-4 unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into the larger room. He approached the easel that he had left standing from the day prior. The paints were covered but the cup of clearing water was no longer good. He picked it up and moved toward the replicator. As he did, he passed the desk where Lore had worked to repair his hand earlier. The tools were still out, but—.

     B-4 halted so fast that water sloshed over the lip of the cup and splattered onto the carpet. One of Lore’s tools was not where he had left it. It rested on the desk approximately two point five inches from the place where, B-4 was absolutely certain, Lore had placed it.

     The sense of fear returned and his mind was no longer focused on the painting.

     _Tell Lore. Now._

 

***

 

     “They’re taking down the main computer again. Just great.” LaForge said, giving the control table a good slap.

     Lore laughed at LaForge’s unnecessary irritation. They were already three days ahead of schedule on the propulsion tasks, and the loss of the main computer would hardly set them back. It would not set Lore back at all, since he did not need the assistance of the main computer to do almost anything.

     But, he could not care less about any of it at the moment, for he was utterly distracted. Anna had decided to return to engineering.

     “Need any help, Commander?” Anna said as she walked into the room. She stopped at the head of the control table and just barely glanced at Lore before putting her eyes on the control table. Lore noted the action and sighed. She was stilling trying to ignore him; _trying_ being the operative term.

     “There’s not much going on, but every little thing we tick off helps.” LaForge said, “I’m surprised. It’s almost twenty-three hundred hours. I figured you were out for the night.”

     Anna shrugged her shoulders, “I couldn’t sleep.”

     “Yeah, I know the feeling.” LaForge looked over his shoulder in the aft bay. He grumbled at something and walked off in that direction.

     Lore watched Anna with concern. Why couldn’t she sleep? He decided he would ask her later, after they had had several hours of mindless, silent work between them. It seemed like the best course. Rather than assaulting her with attention all at once, he would just be around her for a while. It would be a good exercise of his patience and self control, or so her mused to himself. He continued his work on the control table display, resting his right hand flat on the surface as he operated the controls with his left. After a short time he noticed that Anna had stopped moving. He covertly turned his eyes her way and saw that she was staring at his right hand.

     Lore smiled and felt a warm wave of hope. He raised his hand, “Would you like to examine it?” He said.

     Anna pulled her eyes up as if she had been caught at something and shook her head, “It looks fine.”

     “Are you sure?” He whispered playfully, “You know how sloppy my work can be. You should probably check it.”

     She shot him a frown but he knew—he _knew_ —he saw amusement in her eyes. She glanced at his hand again, then stubbornly returned her eyes to the console display.

     _To hell with patience._ He reached out with his right hand and took her left in a quick but gentle maneuver.

     “Hey!” Anna objected, more frustrated than surprised. She pulled against him, but with not nearly enough effort to be serious. It just pleased Lore more as he began to meticulously examine her hand, rolling it over and pressing his fingers into the soft flesh of her palm.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” Anna demanded. She was shifting her eyes everywhere, as if it was the only thing she could do not to look at him.

     “I’m examining your hand.” Lore said with a light smirk.

     “Why? There’s nothing wrong with my hand.” She insisted. She pulled back with a little more effort, but still not enough.

     “I can’t know that for certain.” He replied, stepping closer to her, “You’ve been gone for hours.” He held her hand still now and ran his other over her wrist, pressing and releasing as if he really was a doctor looking for breaks.

     “That’s ridiculous.” Anna shot back, her cheeks growing red with anger…or something else. “If that’s your logic, then _anything_ could be wrong with me every time I go off somewhere for a few hours.”

      “You’re absolutely right.” He said, smiling. He was feeling brave, very brave all of a sudden, and it led him to do something truly risky. He stepped very close to her and leaned forward, bringing his lips just next to her ear, “I think the safest thing would be a _full_ examination. I can handle that every few hours if you can.”

     “Lore!” She cried, breaking his hold on her hand. She pressed both hands against his chest and shoved. He laughed and stumbled back a few steps, just to please her. And it _did_ seem to please her. Despite her incredulous response, she could not fully hide the flush in her cheeks, nor the quick smile that made an appearance on her lips. It was the briefest moment of pure happiness, which Lore had not enjoyed in so long, and had known only so briefly prior to that. Pity it was gone as quickly as it came.

     Blake and Varek came around the corner suddenly, Blake talking Varek’s Vulcan ears off about something, until he saw Anna and Lore and came to sputtering halt. The stance between the two of them was strange, and Lore could see the look of embarrassment on the Ensign’s face.

     _Yes, you_ are _interrupting,_ Lore thought unhappily.

     Blake and Varek continued into the room. Despite his little bit of embarrassment, Blake was all smiles this evening.

     “Are you staying on the mid-shift too?” Blake asked Anna, politely ignoring her flushed cheeks, “No rest for us weary, huh?”

     Anna nodded and stepped back to the control table, “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.”

     “Oh.” Blake said. He looked up at Lore, “You too? You’ve already done…what? Twenty hours straight?”

     Lore leaned slowly over the table, “I am not talking to you anymore, _Blake._ ”

     “W—what? Why?” Blake cried.

     Lore scoffed and looked at Varek, “I’m not talking to you either, _or_ Briggs or Troi!”

     Anna shot curious glances at all of them, “Why not? What’s going on?”

     Lore frowned with worry and immediately regretted saying anything. He did not want the name Teni ever mentioned in Anna’s presence again.

     “Oh, come on, Lore!” Blake said, raising his hands, “It’s not that big a deal.”

     “Really?” Lore sneered, “I was under the impression that humans took a bad view of talking about others ‘behind their backs’. That is the phrase, isn’t it?”

     Anna frowned at Blake, “What’s this?”

     “Nothing! I swear!” Blake said immediately, “Talking about people behind their backs doesn’t apply to innocent stuff. Jeeze! Just a few little stories!”

     Lore put his eyes purposefully on the console, ignoring Blake. He never really understood why silence was considering a punishment to humans, but it was, and Lore was not above taking advantage of it.

     “Lore?” Blake said, “Lore? Oh, come on, man!”

     Anna leaned back from the console and faced Varek, “What stories?”

     _Oh, Shit._

     Varek lifted a curious eyebrow, “As Lore does not appear pleased by the dispensation of the ‘stories’, I will choose not to spread them further.”

     “Oh, nothing to cause all this _fuss_.” Blake said, emphasizing the last word as an insult, “I was having dinner with Teni and some other people joined us and she told us about this horrible space station she used to live on and how Lore beat the hell out of this guy who attacked her and—.”

     “I did not ‘beat the hell’ out of anyone!” Lore objected angrily.

     “What? He had it coming.” Blake insisted. The poor Ensign appeared oblivious to the silent look Lore was giving him, a look that very clearly said ‘shut your mouth’. He continued, “She told us about her friend Min and the station, and this whole misunderstanding about her being a prostitute.”

     “Prostitute?” Anna said, eyes wide.

     “No.” Blake said, “Lore thought she was a prostitute.”

     “I _did not_ think she was a prostitute!” Lore fumed. This was a nightmare. Some kind of ridiculous nightmare, though he was sure he had had no reason to activate his dream program. He almost never used the stupid thing!

     “No, no!” Blake said, shaking his head, “I mean, Teni thought that _Lore thought_ she was a prostitute, or something. Anyway, that somehow led to her spilling a whole tray of drinks on him.”

     “That had nothing to do with the drinks!” Lore was practically beside himself now. Was Teni such a horrible story teller or had Blake simply been too blinded by attraction to pay attention? It didn’t matter either way!

     “I believe you have misconstrued the order of events.” Varek chimed in, “Teni’s misconception that Lore was attempting to purchase sexual favors from her had already been clarified the day prior. The accident with the drinks was unrelated.”

     “Purchase _what?_ ” Anna stared at Blake with wide eyes, and for the life of him Lore could not tell if she was angry or amused or something in between.

     “Shut up, Blake!” Lore burst suddenly, “Stop talking!”

     Blake’s eyes widened and he put forth a pathetic frown, almost as if he was hurt, “What’s wrong? These stories are great. You…you should be proud. If it’s the part about her kissing you, don’t worry. She explained all that.”

     _You little piece of…._

     Anna gasped a little and backed away from the table. She didn’t say anything, but some kind of groan or whimper escaped her lips.

     “Oh!” Blake looked at Anna and, finally, he realized he might have uttered something stupid. “Anna! Teni kissed _him_ , and she said he turned her down on the spot. It was totally her fault.”

     “Come here, Blake!” Lore fumed as he reached across the table. He wasn’t going to hurt him, Lore told himself, he was just going to cause him a little temporary non-scaring pain. Blake stumbled back out of Lore’s reach, his embarrassed cheeks now flushed with terror.

     “Don’t overreact!” Blake pleaded as he reached the ladder well and scrambled up to the second deck.

     “What’s going on in here?” LaForge demanded from across the room, “Knock it off!”

     Lore did not follow him but stopped at the foot of the ladder, the momentary burst of rage already subsiding. Blake disappeared into the second deck above. He turned immediately around to find Varek and Anna still standing next to the control table, staring at him. He couldn’t give a damn about Varek’s reaction, so he focused entirely on Anna. Her brow was up and she looked…looked…. Oh! What did that blank stare mean?

     “Anna, I—.”

     She cupped her hand over her mouth as she dissolved into laughter. Lore was too surprised to react so he just stared. What was she laughing at? This wasn’t funny!

     “I’m sorry!” Anna managed to say through gasping breaths. She was already holding her side, which wasn’t a stretch since her lungs were still so weak, “I just….I can imagine seeing that, and it’s too damn funny.”

     “Seeing what?” He demanded, though her laugh was quickly becoming like a drug. He didn’t even care if she was laughing _at_ him, he just didn’t want her to stop.

     She drew another deep breath, “I can imagine that woman, Teni, all outraged because she thinks you’re trying to buy her, and then she slaps you across the face. Very theatrical!” Her laughed continued anew.

     “She never slapped me.” Lore insisted.

     “Maybe not, but that’s how I imagine it.” Anna laughed a few more times, running the back of her hand against her lips, before they finally lied and she pressed her hand to the side of her chest.

     “Are you all right?” He said, quickly coming to her side.

     “Of course.” She said, “I’m used to it now.”

     The humor in the room died so quickly that it was a bit startling. He looked at Anna, hoping for something, anything, but she seemed to be making some kind of effort to subdue herself. It made his heart ache.

     _Why are you fighting me?_

     The work was slow and, because of him, they were already so far ahead of schedule. It made little sense for them to all remain there. He was about to take Anna’s hand and encourage her to go somewhere with him when quick footsteps echoed dully from the corridor outside. B-4 appeared suddenly, moving quickly around the corner and into the bay.

     “Lore!” B-4 said frantically, his hands gripped in front of him in an overwrought show of fear.

     Lore rushed around the table and met his brother at the same time Anna did. “Bee, what’s wrong?” Lore demanded.

     “Captain Maddox was in my quarters!” B-4 cried. His face fell and he looked at Anna instead of Lore, almost as if he thought it was his fault.

     Anna gasped and her eyes took on a dark, narrowed tinge, “What was he doing in there? He has no business around here!”

     “What was he doing in there? Did you confront him?” Lore said. He was more interested in knowing if Maddox had done anything to B-4 or leveled any kind of threat against him. If he had….

     “No. I did not see him in my quarters.”

     Lore and Anna looked at each other in confusion, their concern for B-4 momentarily overriding everything else going on between them. “You didn’t?” Anna asked.

     “No.” B-4 continued, “I saw him in the corridor outside. He was close to my door, and…and things inside had been moved. I did not move them.” B-4 looked at Lore suddenly, hopefully, “Did you move them? Did you go back to the room after we left?”

     Lore shook his head, sadly, “No, Bee, I didn’t. If something was out of place, then someone else moved it.” He considered, “What was moved?”

     “Two of the tools you left on the desk were not in the same place.” B-4 replied, his voice growing progressively lower, “You left them on the touch console, but they were no longer on the touch console.”

     Lore made an angry sound in his throat, just articulate enough to not be a growl, but it was close. “The computer,” He muttered, “Maddox must have been going through Data’s file. That’s why he moved the tools off the control pad.”

     Anna frowned, “I don’t understand. Why would he? I mean, Data was incredibly open with Maddox, as I understand it. He kept almost nothing from him.”

     “He didn’t?” Lore asked, surprised.

     “No.” Anna replied, “I think Data saw the value in cybernetic research going main stream. Maddox already knows everything about Data, every system, every schematic. What would he be looking for that he doesn’t already know?”

     Lore frowned. He had no idea. Then again, there was no reason to think that the explanation would be logical. Maddox was, in Lore’s opinion, a very poor scientist and an even worse person. This act might be nothing more than the desperate scrounging of someone who couldn’t find any other avenue. Maddox was having no luck building his own stable positronic matrix, and might have simply been hoping to find one last thing that would give him the answer. But Anna was right. Maddox already knew as much about Soong type androids as any medical doctor knew about human anatomy. It still did not change the fact that a doctor could not create a fully formed life out of thin air, and neither could Bruce Maddox.

     “Calm down, Bee. It’s all right.” Lore said, smiling at his brother. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll put a security code on your door that even Picard won’t be able to bypass.”

     Anna gave Lore a look of amused disapproval, but said nothing.

     “I…I like Captain Picard.” B-4 said. He didn’t sound so panicked anymore, but still leary.

      “Good. Then you can _choose_ to let him in.” Lore replied, “I don’t think you need to worry about this. Maddox is just desperate, Bee. He’s trying to find the answer to a problem because he can’t figure it out himself.”

     “Oh.” B-4 said, as if such an idea had never occurred to him, “Do we know the answer? If we give him the answer, maybe he will not come here any more.”

     Lore shook his head, “No. I don’t know the answer. Neither did Data. That’s why his daughter didn’t live very long. Do you know about Lal?”

     B-4 tilted his head for a moment, “Yes. I know about Lal.”

     Anna gave Lore a questioning look before she took B-4’s hand and made him look at her, “Bee, the only way Maddox can get the answer he wants is by hurting Lore. He would hurt you too if…if he could get the answer from you, but he can’t. That doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t try, though, if he was desperate enough. You must always stay away from him, never go anywhere with him. Okay?”

     Lore stared at Anna, momentarily overcome by her concern. She knew about everything. She knew about Maddox and his experiments and who knew what else. She had been taking care of B-4, watching him and spending time with him and, more importantly, protecting him from Bruce _fucking_ Maddox. If it was possible for him to love her any more, which he doubted, Lore did right then.

     “Okay.” B-4 said lightly. As usual, his entire demeanor had changed in the blink of an eye. Lore and Anna had given him all the assurances he needed, and he no longer saw any reason to worry. At least, that was what Lore assumed was going on his brother’s head.

     “Stay here and help us.” Lore said, forgetting his plan to take Anna off somewhere.

     “Okay.” B-4 said happily, “I like engineering.” B-4 saw Geordi in the back of the bay and began walking towards him, leaving Anna and Lore to watch him as he went. Lore watched for a long time as troubled, or rather confused, thoughts went through his mind.

     Eventually, he muttered, “I’m surprised.”

     Anna looked up, “At Maddox? I’m not. He’ll do anything.”

     “No, I’m not talking about Maddox.” Lore said, “I’m talking about Bee.”

     “What do you mean?” She said.

     He looked at B-4 again, not able to shake the strange questions running through his mind, “I’m surprised he made the connection. Seeing Maddox in the corridor, the things out of place in his quarters, and then coming to the conclusion that Maddox moved them?”

     “You don’t think he did?” Anna asked.

     “Oh, no. I _know_ he did, but B-4 would never have made a deduction like that when I knew him, before. He simply wasn’t capable of it.”

     “He’s made a lot of progress.” Anna supplied, “He’s a lot different than he was only a month ago.”

     Lore merely nodded his head and turned his attention back to the display, his mind racing.      

    


	33. Chapter 33

 

**_“People don’t come back from dying.”_ **

     It was nearing one o’clock in the morning and the promenade café was dim and vacant. The self-serve stations were available, as always, but the attendants were long gone and not to reappear for several hours yet. Bruce Maddox did not care. In fact, he was glad to have the solitude without being shut up in some little office. He collected a cup of hot green tea from the replicator and took a table closest to the window. It was night on Earth as well, the station clock being synchronized to that of San Francisco. Splatters of light dotted the dark continent below, a ribbon of yellow and white along the coast, fading to near total darkness in the vastness of the Rocky Mountains.

     Maddox scanned through the data pad in his hand, going through list after lift of files, most of them worthless. The ones that weren’t totally worthless were redundant, since he already had them. Files on Data’s systems, backup system, self diagnostics; he already had all of that. It was true that he had nothing from the last three years or so, since Data had essentially stopped communicating with him, but that didn’t matter. The newer files were just newer self diagnostics of the same perfectly maintained android, virtually unchanged for forty years.

     _Worthless._ Maddox tossed the pad aside. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t surprised and he should not be disappointed. After all, the files were just a bonus, an afterthought. He had achieved his real purpose while inside Data’s quarters. Data’s quarters…. Maddox laughed to himself as he took a sip of tea. Everyone aboard the _Enterprise_ still called it _Data’s quarters,_ and he suspected that even B-4 did the same. Hell! The ship’s computer still identified the room that way! Leave it to Picard to be sentimental about a machine.

     “Double espresso with cream. Hot.”

     Maddox strained to look over his shoulder. A man was standing at the self-serve replicators, one elbow resting on his other hand as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Maddox had been so lost in his own concerns that he had not heard the man approach. He took his drink from the replicator and turned toward the wide area of seats. Maddox only just managed to not  show his surprise. It was that doctor, the younger one. What was his name?

     “Evening.” Owen said, raising his cup slightly.

     Maddox nodded cordially. What was it about the doctor? He had heard something, something from one of the holo-engineers Maddox was ostensibly working with. His brow rose suddenly as he remembered. That was right. Doctor Warrick was friends with that woman, Lt. Hall.

     “Care to have a seat?” Maddox said with a friendly laugh, “No reason to be exhausted and miserable without company.”

     Owen shrugged and laughed a little as he made his way to Maddox’s table. The young man sat and looked out at Earth immediately. No one could sit in the café and not immediately look that way.

     “Are you on the mid shift?” Owen asked by way of polite conversation. 

     Maddox shook his head, “Not exactly. I’m just on loan for a bit. The holo engineering department.”

     “Oh.” Owen looked, as most Starfleet officers did, to Maddox’s rank insignia. He sputtered a little over his cup, “Oh! I guess you wouldn’t be on the mid-shift, Sir.”

     “Please.” Maddox said, waving his hand, “I’m a scientist. The rank is a formality. I prefer going by doctor.”

     “So do I.” Owen agreed. “So, holo engineering? You should visit sickbay. We’re hosting the _Voyager_ EMH right now.”

     “Really?” Maddox sat up, trying to look as interested as possible. He wasn’t. Holograms were child’s play compared to what he was trying to do.

     “Yeah.” Owen sipped his drink again, “Though, on second thought, you might not want to stop by. Doctor Crusher and the EMH are occupied with a critical patient at the moment. He wouldn’t have any time for you.”

     “Just as well.” Maddox shrugged, “I’m terribly occupied with other things. You know, I didn’t actually get your name. I’m sorry, Doctor….”

     “Warrick. Owen Warrick. I’m a junior doctor aboard the station here.” Owen  offered. “And you?”

     “Bruce Maddox.”

     Owen swallowed a gulp of espresso too quickly, probably burning his throat, Maddox guessed. It was clear from the man’s wider expression that he knew Maddox, or more accurately knew of him. _Probably from Hall,_ Maddox sneered to himself.

     “Oh, you’re, um….” Owen cleared his throat, “The cyberneticist Dr. Maddox.”

     “That’s right.” Maddox said, “Cybernetic programming can be quite similar to hologram design, so occasionally I help out some colleagues who are interested in that field.” The lie rolled off his tongue like a well memorized rhyme. It had not been easy conjuring an excuse to be aboard the station, but it turned out that there was a small study group of holo-engineers aboard, attempting to engineer holograms to serve as emergency security personnel, or some damn thing. Maddox wasn’t interested in the slightest, but giving them a few hours a day seemed to justify his presence.

     “I, eh….” Owen looked into his cup, “I know Anna Hall. She’s mentioned you a few times.”

     Maddox laughed in a big, friendly manner, “Oh! Nothing encouraging, I’m willing to bet. Lt. Hall and I had a misunderstanding some years ago. She seemed to think I was trying to _abduct_ Lore.” He rolled his eyes a little at the last statement, giving every impression that he found the idea ridiculous.

      Maddox watched as Owen frowned and became silent, the man’s thoughts suddenly turning inward. He had never been very good at reading people, not having the necessary empathy or self examination to do so, but it was obvious even to him that the mention of Lore’s name had put a damper on the young doctor’s mood. He decided a fishing expedition was in order.

     “You…know Lore?” Maddox asked cautiously.

     “Know him? No. That would be a bit far to say.” Owen spat out quickly, harshly. “I’m familiar with him, and that’s enough.”

     “Oh?” Maddox was interested now, and wanted to encourage the man to keep talking, “Sounds like you aren’t a fan. I know the feeling.”  

     Owen visibly grinded his teeth and looked out at the dark globe. He sipped his coffee again. Finally, he muttered, “Every time I see him I think he’s going to kill me.”

     _Whoa._ Maddox set his cup down and ran his finger around the rim. “Why would you say that? That’s pretty harsh.”

     Owen turned back toward him, and now the man had a more forced, polite smile on his face, “No reason. Nothing. He just has that effect on people, I guess.” Owen downed the last of his coffee and looked into the empty cup. “Well, thanks for the company, Doctor. I think I should be getting back.”

     _Right._ “Sure thing. Good talking to you.”

     Owen rose and returned his empty cup to the replicator. He made a final polite nod and headed off across the promenade in the direction of sickbay. Maddox watched him go, frowning. Lore was a surly person, everyone knew that, but it was also true that dozens of people worked around him constantly and more than likely did not fear for their lives. Medical doctors were hardly known for their skittishness, and so Maddox quickly concluded that Dr. Owen Warrick must have a very good reason to have said what he said.

     Maddox turned back toward the viewport and sipped his now cold tea, wondering.

 

***

 

     It was late, too late, and Anna was drooping in her seat. She probably thought no one noticed as she rested her cheek on her hand and her elbow slowly began to slide down the console as she slipped into unconsciousness. Lore noticed, of course, since he could not keep his eyes from her for more than a few minutes.

     He placed his hand on the console, stopping the slow slide of her elbow. “Anna.” He whispered.

     “Huh? What?” She shot up quickly, her eyes immediately going back to the console readout.

     “You fell asleep.” He said.

     “No, I was just resting my eyes.” She said as she rubbed her face with the back of her hand and stared at the screen.

     “The diagnostic finished five minutes ago.” He said. As much as he wanted her to remain in his company, it was clear that she was exhausted. His perfect solution would, of course, be to go with her, but he doubted that would be the case. “You should go rest.”

     “I’m fine, Lore. Really.” She said, standing up and stretching her arm across her chest.

     He opened his mouth to object, but decided against it. It wasn’t his place to tell her to sleep. He had done enough _deciding_ for her already. He actually stopped for a moment and pondered that. It was a regretful thought that had just occurred to him.

     “We’re ready for the reinstall.” LaForge announced from the main bay. Anna and Lore walked toward the control table and immediately began going about their tasks. Lore could not help but smile to himself. At least in this way, it was so much as it had been before. He and Anna worked so well together, requiring virtually no communication to get things done.

     “Okay, this is the last one for tonight, then I’m calling it.” LaForge groaned as he stretched both arms high over his head. He dropped them in a huff and smoothed his uniform.

     “I’m staying.” Lore said at once. He doubted that more work would help him, for it had not really worked last night, but he had to try. Returning to his vessel just to sit or perform some unnecessary task did not appeal to him at all. He glanced at Anna, unable to help himself. What he wouldn’t give to just spend the rest of the night with her.

     “Oh, no.” LaForge said, shaking his head, “Not again. You left me a mess to correct in the log book because of all that work you did.”

     “You’re welcome.” Lore sneered.

     LaForge raised his hands, “I’m not complaining.”

     “I already told you I didn’t do anything to the log book.” Lore said, “I don’t have an access code.”

     In response to this, LaForge leveled an incredulous frown at Lore, “Really? Then how, might I ask, did you manage to access all those systems to do the work?”

     A self-satisfied smirk worked its way to Lore’s lips. _Oh. That._

“I’ll tell you how.” LaForge continued, “You used _my_ access code!”

     “Lore.” Anna groaned, rubbing her eyes again.

     “What exactly is the problem?” Lore said, his tone a mold for fake innocence. “I got the work done, didn’t I?”

      “The problem is that you know my access code, for starters.” LaForge sighed, “The second is that since you used it for all that work, the synched up log in station maintenance shows that _I_ did all that work. So, unless I just suddenly grew two more hands and increased my productivity rating by, oh, three hundred percent, their log isn’t going to make sense when they do the audit.”

     Lore sighed at all the talk of logs and audits and whatever other clerical nonsense occupied too much of LaForge’s time. He shrugged, “So change it. Change the code markers.”

     “To what?” LaForge said irritably.

     “Everyone else was either off duty or already working on something else.” Anna supplied, “Using someone else’s code would just create another log conflict.” She shrugged and gave Lore a kind of sympathetic look. She didn’t like the red-tape beast any more than other people.

     LaForge pressed his lips together and shook his head a few times. “This is getting ridiculous. I’m just going to have to give you your own access code.”

     Lore eyes shot up as if LaForge’s little announcement had been a loud bang. “What?”

     “An access code.” LaForge said again, “Then we won’t encounter this problem again.”

     Lore stared at LaForge as if a third eye was growing on the man’s forehead. His own access code? It was such a simple thing, almost pedestrian, and yet…it was not. His name would appear in the maintenance logs. _His name_ , right next to Anna’s and Blake’s and Varek’s, as if he were….Lore felt his breathing cease of its own accord. As if he were a member of the crew.

     “You don’t have to do that.” Lore said suddenly, “I’ll…I’ll slow down and use Anna’s code when she’s on duty. No conflicts.”

     His eyes were purposely on the console, and so he did not see the look that passed between LaForge and Anna. LaForge cleared his throat, “That isn’t likely to work. Anna can’t appear to be doing two things at once either. No, I’ll just get you an access code authorization from the Captain.”

     Lore’s eyes never left the console as he muttered, “Whatever.” He felt so uncomfortable all of a sudden, and even he could not put a sound cause to it. It was just an access code. It was a just a means through which they could get more work out of him. It didn’t mean anything! It wasn’t as if it was some tacit nod of approval, or some subconscious indication that they trusted him. No, it certainly wasn’t that at all.

     Even if they _were_ handing him a legitimized set of keys to the ship.

     LaForge just rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible. He had long ago given up trying to understand Lore’s flighty mood shifts. He went back to his work at the console while Anna did the same, or Lore thought she did. He glanced up and saw her looking at him with a questioning expression. He was disappointed when she looked away, caught.

     Several minutes of silent work followed, as both LaForge and Anna were too tired to do anything else. Lore saw Crusher right away as she entered the room. Her pace was slow and examining, the way someone moved when they are looking for something. Lore narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and his feeling of dread only increased when he saw a medium sized data pad in Crusher’s hands. _The_ medium sized data pad.

     “Lore?” Crusher began, “I need to talk to you.”

     He kept his eyes down, “About what?”

     “About this?” She replied, lifting the pad slightly. Lore was still not looking at her, making a point not to look at her, so she stepped closer to the table. “Someone left this in sickbay earlier today.”

     Lore clenched his teeth like a vice. He should have known better. He should have known that trying to help would only cause him trouble. He turned toward her, “Well, I’m sure _someone_ intended for you to read it.”  

     Crusher sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her limp hair. It was clear that the woman had not slept in some time. She lifted the pad again, “I did read it. Lore, this procedure is incredibly complex. There’s more than three dozen trouble-shooting maneuvers for potential problems, and that’s on top of the two hundred steps of the _basic_ procedure.”

     “I was very thorough.” He deadpanned. He could feel his anger rising. He had written all of it down in minute detail and left it, secretly, in Crusher’s care. Was that enough to indicate to her that he wanted nothing to do with this, that he did not want to _discuss_ it? If he had he would have gone to her in person!

     Anna looked at Dr. Crusher with a questioning look and soon slipped into comprehension, “This is about Seven. You know how to help her?”

     _Oh, no. Please._ Lore struggled to keep his movements slow and calm, but the urge to crush the table in front of him was growing. He just wanted Crusher to go away and take his horrible memories of the Borg with her, but that wasn’t going to happen. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. 

     “You are a competent doctor.” Lore said slowly, calmly, “Those instructions are more than adequate. We don’t need to talk about anything.”

     Crusher sighed again, but it wasn’t a normal sound of frustration. It was the sound of a woman at the end of her tether who was trying to be calm. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and took a breath, “The step sequences are too fast. The procedure is sixteen hours, minimum. I _can’t_ do it. I’ve spent the last five hours trying to think of a way, but I—.”

     “Then have the EMH do it!” Lore burst suddenly. His expression was angry but also worried, pained. Didn’t they see what this subject did to him? Didn’t they understand! Or, maybe they didn’t. Maybe they had no idea how it troubled him, how guilty it made him feel. For all he knew, they still saw him as the same heartless monster, and why would a _heartless monster_ care about performing a few Borg medical procedures?

     “He can’t!” Crusher shouted back, “Neutralizing her implants before bypassing them requires constant theta radiation applications. A holomatrix can’t remain stable in that environment, and if he went offline during that step of the procedure we could lose everything!”

     He knew where this was going. It was so obvious, and at any moment Crusher would make the request explicit. He was waiting, watching. He looked at Anna and immediately looked away. He knew what her opinion would be, because Anna was a good person who would do anything to help Seven of Nine. But, he wasn’t a good person. He was a selfish bastard who had no interest in reliving the past that had become his nightmare.

     He looked at Crusher and shook his head. The blood ran out of her porcelain cheeks.

     “Lore, I—.”

     “No.” He said, cutting Crusher off. “I’ve already given you the information. That’s enough.”

     Crusher closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, probably biting back unkind words. Finally, she said, “Fine.” She turned and walked away. Her lack of objection, oddly enough, only made Lore feel worse. Of course she would not press him or try to change his mind. Crusher had probably already assumed that getting his direct help was a long shot. Her opinion of him was all ready so low.    

     He tried not to look up. He did not want to meet the eyes that were, no doubt, staring down on him right now. LaForge would probably look disgusted, but not surprised. Anna would….What would she look like? He glanced up. She was staring at him with a hard, unreadable expression. It lasted only a moment before she looked away.

     _I can’t, Anna. Please understand…._

     B-4, who had been removing and numerically ordering a series of chips near the warp core, looked up. He smiled, “Margaret Harney told me that she swam in the ocean with sharks. That is not good. Sharks are dangerous.”

     “Yeah, Bee.” LaForge muttered. The atmosphere in the room had become thick and tense. Lore focused on the screen before him like a wound up coil, as if he would twist too tight and burst at any moment.

     “The shark could have attacked her.” B-4 continued, “That would not have been good, because then she could have died and dying is bad. People don’t come back from dying.”

     Lore pushed himself away from the control table and stormed away, his pounding steps taking him toward the exit.

     “Where are you going?” B-4 said, chipper as ever.

     Lore did not reply as he once again, for the near hundredth time in his life, chose to flee from his problems.  

    

    

    


	34. Chapter 34

**_“Foul language,_ Doctor. _”_**

     In an ideal world, Crusher would have been able to catch eight hours of sleep before beginning, but the world was far from ideal. Seven of Nine did not have eight hours to waste. Her condition had gone from stable to critical over the course of the last day. It had gotten so bad that her body seemed to be fighting even the sickbay machines that were trying to keep her alive. The Borg implants that regulated her breathing and heart rate, which were designed to make her faster and stronger, were no longer communicating with her organs. Her heart had slipped into a terrible arrhythmia, beating like the chaotic nonsense of a child playing with a set of drums. It was now or never.

     The preparations had taken nearly three hours, and as she pulled the red glove of her surgeons smock up to her elbow, she felt her stomach tighten. She had performed some risky surgeries in her day, some real last ditch efforts, but never before had she gone into a procedure with such a profound assumption of failure. It was sickening. The only thing that made it worse was that her failure, and Seven’s death, would have an audience.

     She looked through the glass partition of the preparation room and up to the observation windows above. The surgical bay was the kind used for teaching hospitals, surrounded by narrow observation rooms above, where medical students could look down at the procedure being performed. This time, the observation windows will filled with faces, but they were not medical students. In her desperation to find help for Seven, Crusher had contacted anyone and everyone who knew a thing about Borg physiology. Scientists from all over the system, most of them Starfleet, had flocked to the station. The idea of a procedure that could, potentially, bypass a Borg drone’s need for a cortical node was something that none of them could pass up. Such a breakthrough would be a miraculous achievement, something that could be dispensed to the Delta Quadrant to help people rehabilitate ex drones entirely.

     Crusher wiped at her tired eyes, then immediately cursed herself for contaminating her glove. _Shit!_ She was getting sloppy already, and the damn peanut gallery above was not helping. They were not all scientists. There were a few big pieces of Starfleet brass up there too. She would have liked to call a closed procedure, gotten rid of all of them, but she couldn’t. Seven of Nine had no family or next of kin to demand privacy. That was how the law worked, and so anyone could walk into the room above and watch her be cut open like a fish.

     “We’re ready.” The Doctor announced somberly from the doorway.

     Crusher gave him a weak smile. She knew that he wanted to help, but they had exhausted any means by which he could be in the room when the radiation component of the surgery began. She could see his broken heart written all over his broad, expressive face. He had little more hope than she did, which she knew was no judgment on her abilities as a surgeon. It was just a simple fact. Beverly Crusher was no android. She could not move fast enough nor memorize dozens of potential trouble-shooting paths, but that was why The Doctor would be assisting her from the other side of the glass. He would have all of Lore’s instructions at his finger tips. That would be something.

     Crusher entered the surgical bay and waited for the door behind her to be sealed. She gave a nod to Dr. Warrick and Nurse Ogawa, who were already in the bay, clad in identical red smocks. They were ready.

     “Computer,” Crusher began, her tone professional, “begin recording for surgical procedure. Estimated time, sixteen hours plus. Experimental bypass of Borg cortical node. Subject, Seven of Nine; federation file Hansen, Annika.”

     The crowd in the rooms above grew silent, their faces leaning over the tilted glass. Crusher approached the side of table where Seven lay unconscious. A small hole, roughly one inch wide, was open in the skin of her forehead. The cortical node inside could be seen, the green light from its central band flickering angrily. The first step was one of the most essential, the most difficult. She would have to remove the node, quickly but carefully, and then make the connections inside that would allow the cybernetic matrix they had designed inside the station’s main computer to take over. Crusher would have three, perhaps four minutes to connect the twenty-three thread-like wires that rested in a tray near Seven’s head, waiting. Any longer than that, her implants would begin to shut down entirely, and if that happened….

     Crusher lifted the special tool for removing the cortical node. She would have to be certain not to damage it, in case the replacement matrix failed and she had to replace it quickly. Her exhausted hand trembled just a bit as she moved the tool over Seven’s face. A sharp gasp from the gallery above only just rattled Crusher’s concentration, but she refused to be distracted by their gawker behavior, and she continued, stone faced.

     Until a white hand entered her field of vision and gently removed the tool from her grasp. Crusher looked up and was astonished to see Lore standing next to her. There was an unreadable expression on his face, something between anger and resolve with a little sadness thrown in. Crusher doubted that even Troi would be able to articulate it.

     Lore glanced down at Seven’s unconscious face, then back to Crusher, “I need you to step aside, Doctor. Please.”

     Crusher backed away without saying a word. She moved to the other side of the table, completely ignoring the declarations of shock coming from the galleries above. She gave Owen a nod, communicating her intention to take over his assistant’s position. He nodded in return and took a place with Nurse Ogawa, monitoring the vitals and anesthesia.

     “Computer,” Crusher said quietly, “Please make a file amendment. The attending surgeon is Soong, Lore. No credentials.”

     Lore looked up slowly, the cortical tool poised in his hand. He gave Crusher an amused kind of frown, “A slave to the details, aren’t you?”

     She nodded, keeping her eyes on his is a very meaningful kind of way. Eventually, she whispered, “May I ask what changed your mind?”

     Lore leaned forward and grasped the cortical node with the ends of the tool. In one deft motion he removed it, set it aside, and picked up a thread-thin wire in each hand. He set to work, his hands moving with a swift, confident skill. He said nothing.

 

***

 

     Why had he changed his mind?

     It was a good question. His reluctance to answer Crusher was as much a result of his own uncertainty as it was his usual surliness. He had fled to his ship hours ago, determined to remain there until enough time had passed to convince Crusher and others to drop the subject, to never mention it again, but it had not taken him long to realize that such would not be the result. How could it be, if Seven died? Who would forget that? She would be just one more person dead because of him, because he had allowed it. But, it wasn’t all concern about what others would think. He was not so shallow. No, there had been other considerations. Considerations like…could he just stand aside a let someone die?

     It was that question which had caused him to go running for the airlock, desperate to reach the sickbay before Crusher got too far and made too many mistakes. What had he been thinking? His guilt and his desire to forget had led him to…to…Well, to be _exactly_ what he was trying to forget; a selfish bastard who could not care less about others if it inconvenienced him. And, what he was doing right now was definitely an _inconvenience._

     Lore could feel the eyes on him, from all around and above. He had always sneered when humans made observations like that, _feeling_ eyes on them. No one could _feel_ eyes on them, or so he had once thought. Now, the sense that curious and even accusatory eyes were racking over his back got his irritation peaked. Did they care that he was helping Seven? No. Of course not. All they cared about was _how_ he was able to help, how he had gained such Godforsaken knowledge. His curiosity became too much, and without losing any of the focus on his work, he extended his hearing and listened to the conversations above.

     “I suppose this explains how he was able to maintain control over them, keep the Borg collective from reasserting a connection.” A man with a deep voice whispered.

     “Yes.” Another man agreed, whispering as well, “If he can bypass the cortical node, the transceiver can be removed without initiating a total system failure. The collective would lose any ability to remotely regain control.”

     A derisive snort was the response, “Those things, those _monsters…_ huh! They would have been better off staying in the collective, if you ask me. I read the reports. Those things _enjoyed_ what they did.”

     “Hey!” Lore belted suddenly, his face upturned to the windows above. Crusher started at the sound of his voice breaking the hours long silence, and so did several people in the gallery above. Lore waited an agonizing few seconds as he decided that only the most colorful and rare form of human expression would do. He locked eyes with a dozen different people before he finally said, “Shut the fuck up!”

     The Admiral’s face went pallid as all the blood drained away. No doubt the man had been oblivious to Lore’s ability to hear him. Others in the gallery reacted in a similar manner, shocked and appalled and perhaps a little frightened. Atop all the gasps and muttered objections, however, was a brief snort of laughter. Lore surveyed the gallery above and saw, to his astonishment, Anna standing to the far side of the line of windows. She had her hand pressed over her mouth and looked not a little embarrassed at her amused outburst.

     Lore smiled instantly, unable to control himself. He had no idea why he was smiling. He should be humiliated. He should want her to be as far away as possible from Seven, this procedure, and anything that would hint at his past. But, he didn’t. He entertained the thought that she was there for him, to show him that she approved, and that hope was confirmed when she returned his smile full force.

     _Oh…my…._

     “Uh hum.” Crusher cleared her throat diplomatically, “Lore. We need to carry on here.”

     He acted as if he did not hear, but gave Anna a final, wobbling smile. She stepped back from the window and took a seat. If she noticed the acidic glances from the other people in the gallery, she gave no indication. Lore turned back to his task with full focus.

     “Heart rate at sixty-three.” Nurse Ogawa reported.

     “It must stay below ninety at this point.” He said, “But it’s unlikely to go above eighty.”

     Ogawa nodded and kept her eyes focused on her screen. Owen approached the side of the table with a tray containing several more of the thread-like wires and other instruments for the next steps of the procedure. Lore ignored the man, far too focused to give him any kind of distasteful notice. But, that was fine. He didn’t have to. As Lore continued to work, a very subtle smile worked its way across his lips and a supreme confidence began to overtake all his doubts. Anna had forgiven him. He was certain of it now. What else could it mean, her coming there to be with him, be _near_ him?

     Crusher leaned forward and spoke in the same whispered tone that everyone had been employing for hours, “Are you aware that you’ve developed quite a tendency for foul language?”

     “Are _you_ aware that you’re hair is still blonde, even though nobody likes it?” Lore shot back. It was nasty, but well tempered by the little smirk that had come to his lips.

     “Asshole.” Crusher muttered under her breath.

     “Foul language, _Doctor.”_

     A good portion of Seven’s frontal skull was completely open now, a squared of section two inches by three inches just above her eye having been dissected and set aside. It presented a grotesque combination of blood, flesh, and black Borg circuitry. The top of Seven’s eyeball was visible, still resting in its socket. Now came perhaps one of the most difficult points of the procedure. Dozens of the thread wires entered the space, having been fed there from the dozens of system implants throughout Seven’s body; those controlling her heart, her lungs, her liver, etc. He would connect them all, with a painstaking precision that tested the limits of microsurgery, directly to her brain stem. No more cortical node. No more need for Borg regulation.

     Very subtly, Lore began to hum as he worked. It was a familiar tune, a song he had made a point of learning. It was the first thing he had ever heard Anna sing. Eventually, and seemingly uncaring of those around him, he began to sing very quietly.

     “From time to time there were colors and shapes, dazzling her eyes and…tickling her hands…” His baritone voice was so low that his words were close to indistinguishable to others, but one person in the gallery heard him and was surprised enough to bring her fingers to her lips.

     As the hours passed, Owen Warrick made several subtle glances to the gallery above. Each time, he saw Anna’s eyes focused on Lore’s hands. She never looked away, she never looked at anyone else. She never looked at _him_. Owen directed his attention back to his duties, but not before noting the time. The trip to Utopia Planetia would take some time, and Anna would have to be leaving soon. It was some consolation, but Owen did not smile. He was beginning to doubt if anything he was doing was a good idea.

 

    


	35. Chapter 35

**_“Have a seat, Lieutenant.”_ **

     She had tried to stay awake as long as possible, but it had simply become too much. She had been awake for nearly forty hours, and the grubby warm feeling of over exhaustion was taking her. She had actually nodded off once, or twice, in the observation gallery, only to wake immediately when her head slumped and startled her. The last thing she needed was to fall asleep in public, in uniform, where she could gain even more disapproval from the brass around her. Oh! Why had she laughed? It was such a stupid thing to do, but it had happened before she could control herself, a momentary lapse of professionalism. Could she be blamed? Who would have ever imagined the day when she would see someone tell an Admiral to shut the fuck up?

     After sitting in near total silence for almost three hours, she had finally risen from her chair and walked the few short steps to the door leading from the observation gallery. She had been too exhausted to acknowledge the disapproving stares and mutterings of those around her, which was lucky. They had hardly been kind.

     She had managed to get a good nine hours of sleep, which was strange considering how much trouble she had been having lately with sleep. Her dreams were vibrant and strange, but of the kind that are difficult to describe. Disjointed scenes with no discernible plot or objective, featuring people she knew and people her mind simply conjured up. Lore was there, fixing something in engineering while Kendrick—long dead Kendrick—tried to use the dilithium crystal chamber as a bread oven. Then, with no apparent segue or explanation, she was back home in the mountains of Idaho, trying to convince her little sister that living in  a tree house full time was not a good idea.

     She was awoken by the gentle shaking and soft exultations of her roommate, Jasmine.

     “Hey, Anna.” Jasmine whispered, “Your alarm’s been going off for like five minutes. Are you supposed to be somewhere, hon?”

     She grumbled a yes and sat up. She was stiff, but that was all from the exhaustion of the previous two days. She felt wonderful. More rested than she had been in a while and, now with the cloudy weariness behind her, her mind immediately began telling her why. She closed her eyes and smiled just a little. Lore had come back. He had decided to help Seven and deep down Anna thought she had always suspected he would. But, did she? She felt bad about it suddenly, as if she had misjudged him. When he walked out of engineering without so much as a word, she had harbored no hopes that he would help. How wrong she had been.

     _Have I been wrong about everything?_

     Part of her insisted that she had not, that this changed nothing. _Nothing._ He had still lied. People still stared at her and whispered nasty comments about her mental state, though she refused to admit to herself that those things had any real bearing on her reluctance. No. It was about his lie. She wasn’t so shallow as to be worrying about her reputation or anything like that. Really. It wasn’t that.

     She quickly got dressed and grumbled to herself about this interview she had to go through, an interview that did not even interest her. It reminded her of all those university interviews she had gone through as a kid, mere formalities to please her parents since she had already decided to join Starfleet. She always felt sorry for the administrator, wasting his time and energy on a kid who had no interest in his school. Although…why was she so uninterested? That contrarian part of her, the part she had spent the last two years growing and polishing, came to the surface once more. A new assignment _could_ fix things. It would remove her from the _Enterprise,_ from people who knew the story of her personal life in too much detail, and it would remove her…from Lore. That was a near certainly. He would not be able to follow her. The officials on Utopia Planetia would not tolerate his presence, not like Captain Picard did.

     Anna dropped her hairbrush and felt her stomach tighten again. Why was she thinking like this? Why would she want to be away from the only man who could make her laugh in a room full of Admirals?

     “Aren’t you off duty today?” Jasmine asked, “Don’t tell me you’re taking another shift, honey.”

     “I’m not.” Anna said, smiling at Jasmine’s little endearment. Apparently she had attended a university in New Orleans prior to joining Starfleet, and had picked up the genteel habit. “I have a transfer interview on Mars this afternoon.”

     “Oh?” Jasmine lowered the black pencil she had been using to outline her eyes. “You’re…transferring?”

     “No, I….” Anna sighed heavily, “I don’t know. Owen set it up, as a favor to me, even though I didn’t ask. He meant well. I just wish I’d had more time to think about it.”

     “Oh.” Jasmine said. Her dark brown eyes were searching, almost as if she expected to hear something more. “You came in really late last night. More like this morning, actually. What time did you get off?”

     “Around one. I was in the sickbay.”

     “Oh? Are you sick again?” Jasmine asked, genuine concern on her goddess-like face.

     “No, no, not me. I was watching surgery.”

     Jasmine’s nose wrinkled up. For a scientist, she was such a hopeless girly-girl, and Anna doubted that watching surgery was something Jasmine would ever consider doing. Anna gave her a quick explanation of Seven’s illness and Lore’s decision to help her, all the while Jasmine’s face registering every shift of emotion in the space of a few minutes.

     “Wow.” She muttered, “So…Seven of Nine will be okay?”

     “I don’t know.” Anna replied. She looked at the clock, “They’re still in there, but Lore will do his best.”

     At this Jasmine smiled, and it actually surprised Anna. “What are you smiling at?”

     “Nothing.” Jasmine said with a wave of her powder brush. Anna finished the short operation she had decided to conduct with her hair, then grabbed a cup of coffee before heading for the door.

     “Real quick,” Jasmine said, “What time will you be back? I’m having dinner with that _gorgeous_ Varek tonight and I thought we might make it a double date.”

     Anna’s eyes widened in surprise, “Varek? Varek agreed to go on a date with you?”

     “Uh-huh.” Jasmine said with a smile, quite pleased with herself.

     Anna shook her head in wonder, “What is it with you and Vulcans?”

     “Oh, I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know.” Jasmine said, closing her eyes dreamily, “But anyone who tells you that Vulcans are just frigid statues has no idea what they’re talking about. No. I. Dea.” She punctuated her last words with stern little pokes of her powder brush, and laughed.

     “Whatever.” Anna said with a little nervous laugh. A double date did not sound like something she was interested in right now. Still, she could not be rude. “Um…I’m not sure what Owen’s schedule is, so I would have to get back to you.”

     Jasmine smiled and swiped her nose with the brush, “I wasn’t talking about Owen, honey.”

***

 

     Three hours later, Anna sat on a firm blue sofa facing a vast panorama of the Martian landscape. The fields of Utopia Planetia were a wonder to behold. Off in the distance towering spider-like frameworks held Starships in various stages of completion. They rose like skyscrapers, blocking out the sun and casting massive shadows across the sprawling support buildings. The place was daunting and deceptively chaotic. In fact, there were few places more regimented and controlled.

     Anna glanced at the closed door on the other side of the room. She had been waiting for almost twenty minutes, despite arriving precisely on time. As far as she could tell, the XO was not with anyone else at the moment, and so she continued to wait. It did not work this way on Starships and it certainly didn’t work this way on the _Enterprise._ When Commander Riker had wanted to see someone, he called them and saw them the moment they arrived. There were never any appointments and certainly never any waiting.

       She looked down and rubbed her hands in her lap. Her stomach was still in knots, but it had nothing to do with the silly interview. Her confliction had only grown in the last few hours, and had not been helped by Jasmine’s amused little prod. The image of Lore smiling up at her from the floor of the surgical bay entered her thoughts again. She tried to ignore the quick flush of warmth that entered her cheeks each time she thought about it… _and_ when she thought about what he had whispered to her in engineering, _and_ when she thought his hand on hers, _and—._

 “Lt. Hall?” Came a stern, quick voice.

      Anna looked up. A tall, broad shouldered man was standing in the just opened doorway. He sported dark, lightly graying hair and a solid square jaw. Her first impression was a kind of more intimidating version of Captain Riker. She stood smartly.

     “Yes, Sir.”

     He bid her to follow him with a curt wave of his hand as he turned and reentered the office. Anna followed with a light frown on her face, but she quickly shrugged it off. Some people were just brusk by nature. She should know that better than most.

     “Have a seat, Lieutenant.” Commander Swenson instructed, indicating a narrow chair before his desk. This room also had broad windows showcasing the technological wonders outside. Anna regarded them as she took a seat and began to formulate how she would answer the usual interview questions in an honest, professional, but not too exemplary way.

     “I’ve been familiarizing myself with your personnel file here.” Swenson said, raising a data pad off the surface of the desk.

     “Of course, Sir.” Anna said. She kept her expression neutrally pleasant, not smiling too much. She wasn’t sure what else to do since he was not smiling at all.

     “Quite frankly, I’m surprised you would want to transfer from the _Enterprise_. Slots there are few and far between and have a lot of competition. Dozens of officers have spent their entire careers under Captain Picard.”

     “Yes, Sir.” Anna said, nodding. She had prepared a little for this. She had to give every impression that she wanted this billet. It would be rude to do anything else. “I was just hoping to broaden my career specialty. General engineering is interesting, but I think holo-engineering might be a more interesting field.”

     Swenson nodded a few times and worked his jaw in a strange, tense manner. It set Anna on the edge of her seat. Perhaps this man had had a bad morning or was dealing with some other kind of problem that was occupying his thoughts. In either case, she got the sincere impression that he could not care less about anything she was saying.

     “That’s strange.” Swenson said suddenly, after a long pause, “Because I see here that you also applied for a transfer to the _Zodiac_ several months ago on a transporter engineer billet. And before that, only a few weeks, you applied to transfer to the…” He consulted the pad, “the _Westward_ , which only does data gathering research on pulsars.” He dropped the pad in a harsh kind of way, “Transporter engineering, stellar sciences, now holo-engineering? Your interests certainly do change quickly, Lieutenant.”

     Anna’s pulse quickened. It wasn’t so much that she had been caught in a lie—being interested in holo-engineering—but it was the way he drilled his eyes into her, like a detective conducting an interrogation. She wiggled in her uncomfortable chair.

     “Sir, I…I did request several transfers in the last few years, but they were—.”

     “All rejected.” He finished, “That’s very interesting, isn’t it? Why would a qualified, competent engineer—which you clearly are—be rejected for _six_ transfer request?” He tilted his head and shook it slightly, once again not shifting his eyes from her for a moment. He waited.

     “I, um….” She could feel her head beginning to grow light. This was all wrong, all wrong. This was supposed to be just some perfunctory interview, ten minutes at most and filled with banal pleasantries. Instead, it was…she didn’t know what this was.

     Swenson leaned forward now, tenting his fingers before him, “All of these transfer rejections contain no explanation, Lieutenant, which I find to be quite generous, actually. _My_ denial of this request, that we are discussing right now, _will_ have an explanation.”

     The room was suddenly a furnace. Anna could feel sweat beading on the back of her neck, soaking her collar. Her stomach swirled and jumped, as if the acid would eat a hole through her. It had always been this way, her whole damn life. She couldn’t take confrontation, she was always crippled by the harsh disapproval of others. It had taught her to be pleasant, friendly, someone that people would always _approve_ of, but none of that mattered now.

     “Lieutenant,” Swenson began, his deep voice like a rumble, “I do not believe you possess the kind of sound judgment and moral direction that is required of a Starfleet officer. I’m not talking about an officer under my command. I’m talking about a Starfleet officer, _period._ Your decisions in your…personal life are extremely troubling.”

     A tiny hole opened up in Anna’s horror, just enough for a little anger to peak through. She said, eyes still on the surface of his desk, “I don’t think my personal life has anything to do with how I do my job.”

     “You don’t?” He spat, his jaw clenching, “Being a Starfleet officer is not a _job_ , it is not something you do a few hours a day, _Lieutenant._ This is who we are, all day every day, and you’re willingness to…what?... _cavort_ with that android makes me have serious questions about you. Are you aware of his past? Do you have any idea how many deaths he is responsible for? If you aren’t, that means you’re careless and incompetent. If you do, it can only mean that you don’t care, which tells me everything I need to know about you.”

     With this, Swenson stood up, scraping his chair across the floor harshly. For a flickering moment, Anna actually felt a pang of fear. This man didn’t just disapprove of her. No. The way he looked down at her now, his nose slightly wrinkled and his brow pressed together, spoke of nothing less than disgust. Her hands and feet felt numb. The only sensation she was sure of was the pressure building behind her eyes and the slow constriction of her throat.

    _Oh, God. No!_ She stood quickly, sucking a breath while she still could. She refused to cry. She refused to look so pathetic! She waited.

    “You’re dismissed.” He said.

    She turned swiftly, heading for the door.

    “And by the way,” He said, stopping her, “I find it to be in incredibly poor taste that you used personal connections to gain this interview. That tells me another thing about you.”

     There was no need for another dismissal, for it colored every word he said. Anna retreated through the door at a smooth pace, unwilling to run as her legs demanded. Once in the outer room, she maintained that pace into the corridor and down several yards until she could not hold it any longer. The gasped, making a gulping kind of sound before the tears came. The action sent a wave of pain through her left side, the lung being too quickly stretched. She kept walking, forcing herself ever closer to the main dock and the privacy of her shuttle pod. Virtually no thoughts ran through her mind, no coherent ones anyway. She was too overwhelmed with rage, humiliation, and a dozen other feelings to think of anything constructive. She only knew she wanted to get away, far away, from it all.

     She rushed around a corner and nearly collided with a slight, older man, his hair long ago having turned completely grey. She only just noticed the insignia on his neck. Captain. The CO of Utopia Planetia.

    “Whoa, there, Lieutenant!” The man laughed a little, putting a hand on her shoulder, “We’re all busy, but it’s not a race.”

    “I’m sorry, Captain. Excuse me.” She muttered quickly as she stepped to go around him.

    He frowned suddenly, for Anna had not been fast enough in hiding her face and her tears. “Are…are you all right, there?”

    “Yes, of course. I just need to get back to my ship. Post-op lung surgery.” She rattled all of this off in a flash, hardly looking at him. She just needed to get away.

    “Lung surgery? Do you need me to escort you to sickbay?” The Captain appeared genuinely concerned, and gave no indication that he recognized her at all.

    _He wouldn’t be offering to help me if he knew who I was!_ The thought entered her head so quickly and with such certainly that she almost scowled at him. Luckily, she did not, and instead forced her posture straight and drew back a little.

    “No, really. It’s my fault. I was…horsing around and smacked my side. It’s just some pain. It’ll go away on its own. Thank you for the offer, though, Captain.”

    “Well, if you’re sure.” The Captain said, stepping back with a laugh, “Be careful, then, huh? Doctor Warrick doesn’t respond kindly to people who get _themselves_ hurt.”

     “Right.” She said, forcing a smile. She did not even react to the mention of Owen’s uncle’s name. Her mind was still too swirling. “Good day, Captain.”

     “You as well. Carry on.” With that, the man turned and continued his progress through the corridors.

     Anna walked until she reached the dock and then practically jogged to her shuttle pod. Once inside, she collapsed into the operators’ chair and let the tears flow. Finally, coherent thoughts began to enter her head. He was going to write it in her file. That was what Swenson had said; he was going to _explain_ his rejection in her file, and that would it. Forever, there would be a note in her file stating that she had been rejected for a position due to questionable judgment, or perhaps he would term it ‘questionable character’. It was a death knell. It would be the end of her career, or any kind of successful career.

     She cried for ten minutes before she managed to pull it together and fire up the engines.

 

 

    

    

    

      

       


	36. Chapter 36

**_“I said I was sorry.”_ **

     It was time for the difficult part.

     Lore glanced at Crusher and could instantly see that she knew. She had read through everything on the pad he gave her, and he was glad for it. That meant there would be no need to explain what came next.

     “We can’t…um…?” Nurse Ogawa was at a loss for words.

     “No.” Lore said smoothly. “Any anesthesia would interfere. It has to be this way.” He returned his attention to Seven’s face. In the dozens of times he had performed this procedure successfully, he had never blinked an eye at this moment. Excruciating pain was not something that had concerned him, for at that time he could not be bothered with pathetic human concepts like empathy. Even now, he could not imagine pain of any intensity, but he could at least acknowledge that it was unpleasant and that he would not be pleased to be its subject. That was enough, and so he did truly regret was he was about to do to Seven of Nine.

     “Thirty seconds, roughly.” Lore said, wishing for the hundredth time the damn audience above would disappear. They were about to get a show now, that was for certain. The final stage of the procedure was to allow the new neural connection to synch up and begin direct communication, _without_ the managing influence of the cortical node. In order for this to take place, the subject— _subject._ Lore shuddered—needed to be conscious. Not only would she need to be conscious, but none of her systems could be bogged down or have their responses delayed by anesthetics. The thread-like wires would carry sudden bursts of energy, much more powerful than anything they would do for the rest of their lifetimes. To Seven it would, he imagined, feel like being burned from the inside out.

     Lore reached for the hypospray that Crusher had been able to apply to Seven’s neck. She hesitated, but handed it over. He glanced down the table once more to make certain that the restraining straps were all in place, then pressed the hypospray to Seven’s neck.

     Her eyes flickered first, opening in a short groggy stage. It was fast, though, and within seconds her face contorted in a visage of agony. Then the screams came.

     “No! Argh! Stop!” Her words were little more than guttural cries, barely recognizable as language. She pulled viciously against her restraints, her mind too far gone to realize that she could not flee from the pain. Lore tried to imagine. For what absurd reason, he did not know, but he _did_ try to imagine! What would it be like to awaken in a strange room, surrounded by people, restrained to a table? Lore _did_ know that feeling, but his ability to empathize ended there. He had not been in pain when he awoke in Bruce Maddox’s office. He had not even been afraid.

     “Stop! Stop!” Seven had more of her wits about her now, and was looking frantically from person to person, as if she could not understand why they were doing this to her. Lore stood back from the table a few feet, waiting for the second to tick by and for the systems to hurry up and make their connections. Twenty seconds left. For her, it might as well have been twenty hours, twenty days.

     There was a shuffle in the rooms above, and Lore looked up in time to see a young female scientist rush for the exit, her hand pressed over her mouth.

     In a quick decision, Lore came forward and leaned over the head of the table. He pressed his hand down on Seven’s forehead, stilling her slightly, and spoke very close to her ear.

     “The pain will pass in seventeen seconds. Do you understand?”

     “Stop!” She cried, tears beginning to run down her face. This had nothing to do with weakness of will, but was an expression of pure animalistic pain. She continued to thrash.

     “Fifteen seconds, Seven.” Lore whispered. His voice was too low for anyone to hear, and he knew that Crusher was staring at him. Seemingly unthinking, he continued, “You can do this. The Borg are accustomed to pain. Just breathe, Seven. Long, even breaths. Fourteen seconds. Thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten….” He continued to count and was astonished when her jaw set and her limbs stilled. She clenched her eyes shut and appeared to be nodding in time to his countdown. It was working, and Lore could not help but smile. Luckily, Crusher could not see his face.

     The thirty seconds passed, and just there after every muscle in Seven’s body relaxed. She slowly opened her eyes and darted them around. When she met Crusher, she tried to sit up.

     “No, no.” Crusher instructed quickly, “Don’t get up yet. Owen, the straps.”

     Owen and Nurse Ogawa began quickly unfastening the straps around Seven’s legs and chest. Lore pulled back from the table and looked at the biometric readouts on the nearby screen. They were stable, across the board.

     Crusher leaned over Seven, “Do you know where you are? What’s happened?”

     Seven tried to sit up again, and this time Crusher assisted her. Seven brought her hand immediately to her forehead and ran her fingers over the smooth skin above her right eye, “You…you removed my cortical node. How? I…I shouldn’t be able to function.”

     Lore stepped away before Crusher could look at him. He went to the bank of sonic filters that hung over a long, shallow sink. He held his hands under them and watched as Seven’s blood was dissolved cleanly from his hands. He had not bothered to wear gloves. He half listened as Crusher gave Seven the shortened version of all that had happened. He could hear shuffling in the room above. The spectators were leaving, and so was he.

     He headed for the door and the sickbay beyond. He had a sneaking suspicion that some of the more medically inclined people who had come to witness the surgery would be interested in speaking to Crusher, and so he hoped to escape the room before any of them appeared.

     “Lore? Wait.” Crusher said suddenly. She was still wearing her surgeon’s smock, he hood having been hurriedly pulled back.

     He stopped near the door, “What?”

     Crusher moved forward with a slow, weary gate, displaying all her intense exhaustion. Still, she focused her eye on him and shook her head slightly, “Look, I….Listen. I’m just going to say this. I know how you feel about other people thinking well of you. I don’t pretend to know why or understand it, I’m not going to analyze you. But, I want you know, I…I think you _should_ know that….” Here, Crusher brought her hand to her forehead, “I’m proud of you, Lore.”

     No snide comment came to his mind. Neither did the urge to roll his eyes, scoff, or do any of the other dozen or so things that he typically employed to build a wall around himself. He was too stunned and…something else.

     As if seeing the uncertainty or discomfort on his face, Crusher nodded and disappeared back into the surgical bay. Lore was still for a moment and watched the door. He was glad that Crusher had left so quickly, for he did not think he would like her to see the smile that came to his lips.

 

***

 

     “Bee, have you been here all this time?” Lore said upon entering main engineering.

     “All of what time?” B-4 asked as he looked up from a disassembled plasma injector in front of him.

     Lore smiled, “Have you been here since I left the room last time?”

     “Yes.” B-4 replied, “I did not wish to go back to my quarters. Geordi needed my help. He said it was important.”

     Lore looked at the disassembled plasma injector, “LaForge asked you to fix a plasma injector?” He could not keep the surprise from his voice.

     “No.” B-4 said, a little confused, “He asked me to disassemble it and then reassemble it. He said it is very important, though…I do not know why.” B-4 picked up a small gold piece, a filament from the control circuitry, “It is fun.”

     Lore was about to question further, but his attention was gained by LaForge, who leaned out of the control room behind B-4’s back. He made a silent waving motion at Lore and pointed at the plasma coil with a shrug. Lore understood immediately. LaForge had simply given B-4 a distraction.

     “Is Seven of Nine still ill?” B-4 asked. At this question, LaForge also stopped what he was doing and listened.

     “She will be fine, Bee.” Lore replied, a satisfied grin on his face, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you see her soon.”

     “That is good.” B-4 continued, “Seven of Nine said I have ‘advanced skills’. She said that I was being ‘misallocated’.

     Lore snorted a little, but was still in a pleasant mood. No. A _wonderful_ mood. “How very efficient of her.”

     Out of the corner of his eye, Lore saw LaForge watching him in a kind of anticipatory way. He was not sure what to make out of it, but quickly decided that he probably wanted a more detailed update on Seven.

     “The procedure was successful.” He said. _As if there was any doubt._ “There should be virtually no recovery time. Considering her usual habits, I wouldn’t be surprised if you see her during the next shift. She will just have to learn to adapt to her new deficiencies.”

     “Deficiencies?” LaForge said, sounding concerned.

     Lore considered. Perhaps that was an inappropriate term, although he doubted that Seven would see it that way. “She’ll have to adapt to some physical restrictions as a result. Without the cortical node to regulate her metabolism and energy usage, she’ll have to sleep more and eat more. Her days of living on two hours in a Borg regeneration alcove are over.”

     LaForge expelled a stream of air, “Hardly deficient by human standards, I guess.”

     “Hardly.” Lore agreed. He turned around and looked up into the second deck of the main bay. He listened, but he did not hear _her_. He faced LaForge again, “Is Anna on the mid-shift?”

     At the mention of Anna’s name, LaForge brought his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed. He shifted his weight a little, “Uh…no. She’s not here.”

     “Clearly.” Lore said, rolling his eyes a little, “When is she on duty again?”

     “Uh….” LaForge suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

     “Anna went away.” B-4 said from his place at the control table, “She had a large bag and she was not wearing her uniform and she went away.”

     Lore turned back to LaForge with dagger eyes, “She _what?_ What is he talking about, LaForge?”

     “Ah, hell….” He shook his head, “Anna went on leave.”

     “What!” Lore fumed suddenly, taking a step back, “When? Why?”

     “Earlier this afternoon,” LaForge said, holding his hands up, “Look, Doctor Crusher has been trying to get her to take leave for weeks. I had no reason to tell her no, even on short notice. I gave her an open return leave chit, ten days.”

      “Ten days!” Lore couldn’t even bring himself to hide his worry. That was it. He was not just angry, he was worried. Why would she just leave without telling him? Where did she go? Something must have happened. “What did she say?”

      LaForge continued to look uncomfortable. He said, “She didn’t say much of anything. She just wanted to go on leave, as fast as possible. She, eh…she did seem upset.”

      _Upset?_ “Where did she go?”

      “I don’t know.” LaForge said quickly. Too quickly.

      “Where did she go?” Lore demanded again.

      “Uh-uh.” LaForge shook his head seriously, “That’s her business, and if she wanted to tell you she would have. I’m not getting into the middle of this.”

      Lore shot him an angry scowl and turned to B-4, “Bee, did she say where she was going?”

      “I was confused.” B-4 said, “She said she needed to go home, but she did not go to her quarters. Her quarters are home.”

      Home? Where was that? He had no idea where Anna lived before she joined Starfleet. She could have kept a house anywhere on Earth! Perhaps the information was in her personnel file, or her Starfleet Academy records—.

     “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s probably a bad idea.” LaForge said meaningfully. “If you’re thinking of looking into privileged personnel files isn’t exactly something the Captain would approve of.”

     _They really know me well._ Lore scoffed, “Spare me your so-called pretensions to privacy. You live on a Starship where everyone’s whereabouts can be tracked by anyone else just by asking the computer. Personal privacy isn’t exactly high on your list of values.”

     “Argh!” LaForge threw up his hands, “This is a Starship, Lore. Starfleet! It’s not the same thing as life on Earth. You can’t just drop down into a place like Wallace and start snooping around, asking where people are—.”

     “Wallace?” Lore asked, his lips turning up suddenly.

     LaForge stopped and an angry scowl marked his face. He had clearly not meant to release that bit of information, “You know what? Good luck. There must be dozens of places on Earth called Wallace.”

     No doubt LaForge was right, but there were probably not very many places called Wallace in the state of Idaho. Lore had heard Anna mention a place called Idaho several times, and with fondness. Perhaps that was the place she considered ‘home’.

     “I have to go, LaForge. I’m _requesting leave._ ” He said sarcastically. He turned to B-4, “Bee, I’m leaving for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll come back.”

     “Are you going to find Anna? Okay. That is good.” B-4 said happily.

     LaForge shook his head with a kind of resigned disgust, “Fine, Lore. Fine. But if you manage to get arrested, do me and the Captain a favor. Don’t resist arrest, and don’t contact either one of us to get you out.”

     “How touching.” Lore muttered. He gave B-4 a final nod as a means of farewell and headed for the exit. As he did so, he snorted dismissively. _Get arrested._ How ridiculous! What kind of unmanageable fool did they take him for?

 

***

 

     Lore stopped before the door to Anna’s quarters and pressed the chime impatiently. He had almost decided to rush straight to the transporter room, but upon closer thought had realized that a little more information would be best. He had no idea where Anna lived, even if she lived in this Wallace place in Idaho. It would hardly do for him to transport down to the center of some town only to have no idea where he was going. But, it was more than that. He wanted to know why she had left. He wanted to know why she would smile at him like that, raising all his hopes and assumptions, only to runaway.

     _Is she running away from me?_ The thought was devastating.

     The door swished open and a tall woman with raven hair and a caramel complexion stood in the doorway. Her eyes immediately widened with recognition.

     “Oh! Hello…Lore.”

     Lore looked at her curiously. She did not appear afraid in any way, just surprised. He decided it might be best to start with ignorance, “Is Anna here?”

     “Oh, no, she’s not. She….” Jasmine sighed, “She went on leave.”

     “On leave?” He said calmly, “Do you know where?”

     Jasmine hesitated a moment when an alarm of some sort went off inside the room. She looked at it, then shot him an apologetic look as she crossed the room to deal with it. Lore took the opportunity to step inside. Jasmine hovered over a computer on the far desk.

     “Hello.” She said brightly, “Hey, look, do you mind if I get back to you in just a few minutes? I’m in the middle of something. Thanks. Bye.” Jasmine folded down the computer screen and looked back to Lore.

     Lore let his eyes rove over the room. It was a standard single crew quarters, but had been altered to accommodate two. The sofa and other lounge furnishings were gone, replaced by a second bed and desk set. He looked at the unmade bed across the room. Anna’s uniform lay across it, and one of the drawers underneath was still open, as if she had been in too much of a hurry to close it.

     “Um…I guess you didn’t speak to Anna before she left?” Jasmine said.

     “No.” He replied, “Where did she go?”

     “She went home, a town in Idaho somewhere. Willis, I think.” Jasmine clasped her hands in front of her and let out a long sigh, “She was really upset and…God! She just hasn’t been well in so long. All those nightmares and the accident, and then this damned interview—.”

     “Interview?” He said. _Nightmares?_

     “Yeah,” Jasmine continued, and her tanned cheeks took on a little color as she spoke, “She had a transfer interview at Utopia Planetia this afternoon, and those bastards! I don’t know what they said to her, but it must have been terrible. She was saying things like ‘my career is over’, and ‘they all hate me’.” She looked at Lore very seriously, “She said they accused her of having questionable character. Can you believe that? Anna, of all people! Questionable character!”

     It was all becoming clear to him, and too quickly. Everything that he had always feared, the primary reason for which he had left, had finally happened. Hot rage started to build inside of him. Anna was strong. She may not have come off that way to people that didn’t know her, but she was remarkably strong, and so he could only imagine the nasty brutality that had led her to flee like this. Underneath all of that, however, he could not help but note that she had been attempting to transfer. _Away from me._

     “Why did she want to leave the _Enterprise?_ ” He asked, pathetically, for he was only expecting to get confirmation for his fears.

     “She didn’t want to leave!” Jasmine insisted animatedly. “It was just…just this stupid thing. She was only doing the interview as a favor for Dr. Warrick. He set it up by mistake. I guess he thought she wanted to transfer and so he pulled some strings without really talking to her about it.”

     Lore’s eyes narrowed. “Really?” His voice was suddenly like ice. “Warrick sent her on this interview?”

     “Well…yeah.” Jasmine said, shrugging her shoulders, “You see, his uncle is the chief medical officer over there, and I guess he was going to have him pull some influence to…um….” She looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

     “To make up for her association with me.” Lore finished. The anger was becoming almost too much to bear now. He could feel his hand tensing of their own accord with the urge to crush something. _Owen’s skull would do nicely._

     “Yeah.” Jasmine muttered, “That sounds about right. I’m…I’m sorry.”

     “Thank you.” Lore said, “I think I know everything I need to know.” Lore turned toward the door with a single minded determination. He just bet Owen went out of his way to help Anna! Pulling strings, indeed!

     “Hey! Wait!” Jasmine said suddenly. She came quickly around the desk and stopped right in front of him near the door. The woman looked directly at him without any kind of reserve, which surprised Lore immensely. “I…I never said anything to Anna because I didn’t want to embarrass her, but she talks about you in her sleep.”

     His eyes widened.

     “Yes, she….” Jasmine seemed to struggle, probably with the propriety of what she was saying, “She said your name in her sleep all the time. _All_ the time. I just thought you should know that. It’s important.”

     Lore stared at the woman, but he did not have to look too deeply. Her unspoken meaning was as clear as words on a page. He stepped back into the corridor and said, with actual sincerity this time, “Thank you.”

     Jasmine disappeared back into the room and Lore turned firmly in the direction of the station airlock. He was going to Earth. There was no question about that in his mind, but first he had something to attend to.

  

***

 

     “I am quite well, Doctor, although….” Seven’s jaw worked with some irritation, “I feel tired.”

     “I know.” Crusher said sympathetically, “The information Lore left us mentioned a few things about decreased metabolic control, etcetera. What it really means is that you’re a little more human now. Frail like the rest of us.” Crusher laughed a little at that, meaning it as a joke, but Seven did not appear to find it amusing. She tried a new tact, “You’re stamina and nutritional requirements are still going to be far more efficient than those of a regular human. You’ll just need to regenerate a bit longer and eat more.”

     “Yes, Seven.” The Doctor said, putting on a broad smile. “Think of it as ‘roughing it’ in the great human outdoors.”

     “I am not interested in ‘roughing it.’” Seven replied, “Although…I am grateful. You will extend my thanks to Lore?”

     Crusher nodded, uncertain if she actually would. She doubted Lore would take it well, and she wasn’t in the mood for one of his snippy remarks. Although, she could not help but think about the way he had reacted to her words earlier. She had said what she said with all the anticipation of a horrible response, but had done it anyway for one reason and one reason only. It had been true.

     “I really wish you would have agreed to stay in sickbay, for a few hours at least.” Crusher said as she lifted her hand to get the attention of the café attendant. “You just had major, _major_ surgery, Seven.”

     “I am not in pain, Doctor. Staying in sickbay would have been an inefficient use of my time.” Seven looked down at the plate of food before her, “As is this.”

     The Doctor rolled his eyes a little and picked up Seven’s fork, “Eating three times a day is hardly that much of an imposition. If you ignore it, you’ll begin losing weight and muscle mass, which will make you tired, which will only to lead to longer regeneration cycles.”

     “I am well aware of the dynamic between nutritional intake and sleep.” Seven said irritably. She took the fork away from him.

     Crusher almost smiled. She would never say it, but she wondered if Lore and Seven had any idea how alike they were. Granted, Seven was not nearly as snide and sarcastic as Lore could be, but she was just as irritable.

     Crusher looked up and made eye contact with the attendant, who smiled and began weaving her way toward them. The café was remarkably busy today. In fact, Crusher could only see a few empty tables on the edges. As she scanned the crowd, she saw Owen and Ogawa stepping away from the self-serve replicators. They each carried a tray with their lunch and drink. There were few available tables, but Crusher could see that the table next to her had a few unoccupied chairs. They could easily make room.

     She lifted out of her seat a bit and waved at them. Ogawa smiled, nudged Owen, and they began to make their way towards them. When the path cleared they each picked up their pace a little, which, in hindsight, only made what happened next worse. Owen’s foot suddenly stopped mid-step, sending the top of his body flying forward. Had Ogawa been any closer, she would have been struck from behind as Owen’s tray and food went crashing to the ground. As it was, he stumbled and landed several feet ahead, sliding into the base of a table and causing its occupants to rise as all their drinks splashed over.

    Crusher watched in stunned horror as Owen spun around onto his back and looked behind him with angry, outraged eyes. They remained that way until, just a few tables back, a lone figure turned around in his chair. Lore had been sitting with his head down, apparently focused on a data pad, and had managed to go utterly unnoticed in the bustling crowd. He rested his arm over the back of the chair now and looked down at Owen with the phoniest expression of regret Crusher had ever seen.

     “Oh! I’m sorry! Were you _walking_ there?” Lore said loudly, “How clumsy of me.”

     “Lore!” Crusher shouted. It was a warning and a reprimand in one. What the hell was he doing? Had he lost his mind?

     People shuffled back as Lore rose from his seat, looking down at Owen menacingly, “Are you all right, _Doc?_ Can I give you a hand?”

     Owen scrambled up under his own power. The front of his uniform was soiled with coffee and some kind of marinara sauce. He eyed Lore with a heavy mix of anger and trepidation.

     “Are you crazy!” Owen blurted, taking several steps back.

     Crusher surveyed the now silent café in horror. What was Lore going to do? Better yet, what could any of them hope to _prevent_ him from doing? She watched Lore as his brow shot up into a faux puppy-dog expression.

     “Crazy? That’s not very nice. I said I was sorry.” Lore took a few more steps forward. Owen actually flinched when Lore extended his hand and said, with the most blood chilling tone imaginable, “Friends?”

     Something in Owen snapped, “Friends! Friends w—with the likes of _you!”_ He backed up several steps, seemingly oblivious to the people he bumped into, “You’re insane!” With that, Owen spun around and plowed through the crowd without a backward glance. He disappeared down the nearest corridor just past the café, all the while Lore watching him with the slightest of smiles.

     Crusher launched herself forward without any idea of what she was actually going to say or do. So, she stopped a few feet from Lore and shot him the universally known ‘what the hell?’ expression.

     Lore turned his eyes slowly toward Crusher shrugged, “My, my, Doctor, you really should take a look at the caliber of people you have working for you. He isn’t very nice at all.”

     Crusher seethed, “Goddamnit, Lore!”

     He shrugged again, then glanced at Seven as if had just noticed her. “Ah, Seven. Hello.”

     Seven cocked an eyebrow curiously, for no doubt she had no idea what to make of the whole scene. She nodded, “Lore.”

     “I’ll see you later, and you too, Doctor.” Lore said cordially, “I was planning to stay, but on second thought, I’m not very hungry.” With his hands still casually clasped behind his back, Lore wove his way through the easily parting crowd and crossed the promenade toward the far turbo-lift.

     “What on Earth was _that_ all about?” The Doctor said as soon as Lore had vanished.

     Crusher looked down at the mess all around her; the spilled tray of food, the upturned chairs, the table of patrons now trying to clean drinks out of their laps. Her shoulders sank and she shook her head. It was like the hopeless reaction of an exhausted parent.

     “Who knows?” She muttered, “With him, who the hell knows?”    


	37. Chapter 37

_**"Lore doesn't like me"** _

 

     “Hey, Doc. What’s the hurry, and—whoa! What happened to you?” Bruce Maddox came to a halt at the entrance to the corridor Owen had just entered. He gave every impression that he was surprised, despite having witnessed the entire altercation in the café just moments before. Maddox was a damn fine actor, if he did think so himself.

     “I’ll tell you what happened to me!” Owen growled as he once more tried to wipe at his uniform front, “You’re damn android is what happened! Mark my words, he is out of control! What were you thinking bringing him back? You should have left well enough alone.”

     Maddox frowned and lifted his chin with mild offence. “ _My_ android?”

     Owen looked up as if ready to continue his outburst, but his chest fell almost instantly, “I’m…I’m sorry, Captain. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to—.”

     “Relax.” Maddox said, putting on a rueful laugh, “You’re not the first person to give me a piece of his mind where Lore is concerned, and you probably won’t the last. So…what happened? Lore may be, um, abrasive as a general rule, but he does tend to do things for a reason.”

     At this, Owen shifted his eyes a little bit, and Maddox could see that the man was embarrassed about something. Of course, Maddox had his suspicions, but decided it was best not to jump the gun. It was better to wait for good information than to fly off with bad.

     “Lore…” Owen began, shiftily, “Lore doesn’t like me.”

     At this Maddox laughed, “Well, that’s pretty obvious, I would say. Why not?” When Owen hesitated again, Maddox decided that the man needed a little more coaxing. “Look, I think I know Lore pretty well, all things considered. Some things irritate him and some things could, well, _really_ piss him off. If you told me why he doesn’t like you, maybe I could give you an idea of which is which.”

     Maddox was even impressed with himself. It was probably the most arrogant lie he had ever told in his life. Except for the actual mechanics of his physical person, Maddox didn’t know Lore from Adam. He had no idea what angered him, pleased him, or anything in between, but Owen didn’t know that.

     Owen looked around the corridor wearily, “Well, it’s Lt. Hall, actually.”

     “Lt. Hall.” Maddox repeated. It wasn’t a question, and he nodded in a sage kind of way, “I see.”

     “Yeah. He has a crush on her or something, and I’ve been seeing her, so….” Owen worked his jaw angrily. The motion only increased when Maddox laughed again, “I’m sorry, Dr. Maddox, but I don’t think this is funny.”

     “It isn’t, it isn’t. Forgive me.” Maddox said, raising his hand apologetically. He was surprised. There was no acting this time; he really was genuinely surprised. He had always known that the Hall woman harbored feelings for Lore, what with her irritating penchant to defend him at every turn, but he had summarily dismissed them as little more than her own morbid curiosity. It had never occurred to him that Lore might actually have feelings for _her_! Who would have thought?

     “I just never suspected Lore capable of something like romantic jealousy.” Maddox clarified. “Friendship, perhaps, maybe even a little loyalty, but not this.”

     “So, you have no idea what he’ll do?” Owen said with a frown.

     “Do?” Maddox said, seeming to ponder, “He’ll probably do a lot of what he has done, try to scare you off with these childish public displays, or perhaps private ones—. Ah, he’s done other things, hasn’t he? This isn’t the first, shall we say, encounter you’ve had with him?”

     “No.” Owen grumbled, “He told me to stay away from Anna.”

     A little alarm went off inside Maddox’s head, but he gave no indication. Despite what he told other people, and he told it often, he knew damn well Lore was capable of violence. Of course he was. All Maddox had done was reinstate the standard operating parameters of Lore’s ethical subroutines, as Dr. Soong has always intended, but that didn’t mean Lore had no independent will. Human beings with a perfectly sound understanding of ethics did unethical things every day. The fact that people believed Maddox when he spun this lie was just another indication of how little anyone understood his work. He wasn’t trying to build automatons with preprogrammed reactions! That was easy. That was doable.

     “So, you’re telling me I can expect more of this!” Owen cried, bringing his hand to his forehead.

     Maddox hesitated for only a moment as an idea suddenly entered his mind. He was not a man for whom epiphanies were a standard operating procedure, but when they did come he knew to pay them close attention. He eyed Owen appraisingly. The man was weak and probably wouldn’t put up with much more from Lore. Maddox could see surrender written all over his face. That simply wouldn’t do.

     “No. He’ll get bored with this.” Maddox assured him, “Trust me. Lore is nothing if not flighty. He’s intense, I’ll grant you, but shifty. Just…lay low for a while. Keep tabs on him with the station computer and just make sure to stay far away.”

     Owen frowned with clear disbelief, “That’s it? You…you really think he’ll just get tired of all this?”

     _Not a chance in Hell._ “Definitely. He was…um…interested in some other woman on the _Enterprise_ , as I understand it, for a time, but quickly grew bored. You see?”

     “Really?” This seemed to put a dent in Owen’s worry. Maddox could see the wheels turning in the man’s head. He was thinking, _Maybe he’s right. Maybe this is just some passing obsession of Lore’s, and if I could just wait…._

     Maddox smiled.

     “Thanks, Cap—Doctor.” Owen said, forcing a smile of his own, “I guess I need to get out of these messed up clothes.”

     “I would say so.” Maddox agreed. As Owen moved to walk away, Maddox stepped forward, another epiphany entering his mind, “If you don’t mind, Dr. Warrick, would you happen to know where Lt. Hall is at the moment? I do have something to discuss with her, in relation to B-4.”

     Owen pressed his lips together and shook his head, “Sorry.”

     “That’s alright. I’ll just consult the computer.” Maddox made a wave goodbye.

     “Oh, well, you can’t do that. At least not today.” Owen sighed heavily, “The _Enterprise_ main computer is down for several days, so they’re utilizing much of the station computer for repair needs. Personnel tracking is offline until further notice. There was a bulletin this morning.”

     “Yes, of course.” Maddox said, smiling, “I tend to be remiss in reading the bulletins.”

     Owen nodded one last time before skulking off, his arms far from his sides and the mess of coffee and pasta sauce. As Maddox watching him walk away that same epiphany came to his mind again, and this time it has companions.

 

 

***

 

 

     “—without a doubt one of the stupidest things you have ever done. What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how angry the station manager is?”

     _I know, Troi. I know._ Lore closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment. He was an idiot. A class A, immature, moron! He had spent his entire life allowing his emotions to get the better of his judgment, and here he was, still at it. Of course, he was unlikely to say anything of the sort to her.

     “Why is that?” He said, innocently, “I said I was sorry. I even offered to help him up.”

     “Oh, did you?” Troi scoffed, “Don’t go into acting for a living, Lore. You’re _terrible_ at it. Never mind the fact that _I_ know when you’re lying.”

     He smiled a little. _Ah, yes. Troi the empath…._ He looked up from his bridge console, which was currently displaying a grid and topographical map of the city of Wallace, Idaho. The room was mostly dark, as he had not bothered bringing up the lights beyond what he needed to function normally. Troi was squinting in the darkness and running her hand over the stair railing to keep from tripping.

     “Computer, full lights.” He muttered.

     The large bridge of Lore’s vessel suddenly came into view, and Troi took the moment to look around. Other than the security personnel who had first boarded the ship upon Lore’s arrival, no one else had been inside. It was only because Lore had no bothered to secure the hatch behind him that Troi had been able to just waltz right in, looking for him with single minded determination. Considering that the incident in the café had happened more than twelve hours ago, he was surprised it had taken her this long.

     “Did Crusher tell you to come here and lecture me?” Lore asked as he sorted through the public files on the town, noting place names and landmarks. He was irritated to find that residency information was not publicly available, meaning that he still did not know where Anna’s home was located.

     “No.” Troi countered, “But she did tell me what happened and I thought it might be important to find out what instigated you to do something so foolish.”

     “Do you really have to ask me that?” Lore said, looking up briefly from the screen.

     Troi crossed her arms, “Do I need to ask you if you’re jealous? No, I suppose I don’t.”

     Lore’s actions stopped and he shot her a warning glance. Yes, he was jealous, but he did not wish to acknowledge it so much by discussing the matter. Besides, his jealousy was not the issue this time. “The good Doctor had it coming. He set Anna up.”

     “What does that mean?” Troi said, a little taken aback.

     “Computer, reinstate standard security measures with an audio warning.” Lore looked away from the screen and faced Troi, “Anna went on leave yesterday without notice. Do you know why? Because the _Starfleet_ officer who interviewed her for a position at Utopia Planetia told her she had ‘questionable character’. I imagine that was one of the kinder things he said to her, judging from what her roommate told me. But, her roommate also told me something else that was very interesting. Dr. Warrick was the one who arranged that interview without Anna’s consent. So, I repeat, he _set her up._ ”

     The diplomatic look that came to Troi’s face, sympathetic yet skeptical, did not help Lore’s mood. “That a pretty big leap.” Troi said, “Why would you think that Dr. Warrick would have any idea how that interview would go?”

     Lore laughed a harsh, bitter laugh, “I suppose _Owen_ can read. If he can, it would have been nothing for him to discover the same thing I did in the last twelve hours. That the First Officer at Utopia Planetia lost his niece in one of the Borg attacks that I was responsible for! What a coincidence!”

     Troi lowered her eyes, “I’m sorry, Lore.”

     “I’m not the one who needs an apology, and certainly not from you anyway.” He replied, “But, wasn’t I right? You tell me, Troi. Now, and with no sugar coating. How bad has it been for Anna? What has she had to deal with because of me?”

     She took a deep breath and averted her eyes to the room. It was clear that she was making up her mind about something, no doubt whether or not to say anything to him. Finally, she shook her head and said, “Anna tried to leave the Enterprise six times. All six requests were denied for no given reason.”

     Lore remained very still for a few moments because he knew it would only cause problems later if he were to suddenly crush the console in front of him like he wanted. “I knew it.” He muttered, “I never should have come back here. She would have been better off if I had just stayed—.”

     “Don’t even _think_ about completing that sentence!” Troi spat, pointing a finger at him angrily, “Anna would have been perfectly content to remain aboard the Enterprise. She never would have made all those transfer requests if you _had been there!_ ” She dropped her hand and shook her head, “This is not my business, Lore, I know that, but…you’re thinking on this subject is entirely wrong. You think Anna would have been better off if you had stayed away, but you have plenty of evidence now to show that’s not the case. The damage was already done. At least she would have been black-listed and ridiculed _with you_ instead of getting the same treatment all alone.”

     The room became remarkably silent as Troi waited and Lore looked at her with an angry expression. He said nothing because he did not know what to say. No. He knew what he _should_ say, but willing admissions of stupidity were not something he enjoyed very much. Troi was right. She was right about him leaving, she was right about what he did in the café….When had this woman _ever_ steered him wrong? The thought was a bitter-sweet epiphany.

     He tapped his finger on the console in a rare display of embarrassment and said, “You do realize that all of this is your fault?”

     “Excuse me?” She said, her jaw dropping, “I have heard some whoppers in my day, but if—.”

     “You asked Data to let me work in engineering.”

     Troi halted, frowning. “I—What?”

     Lore smiled awkwardly and looked back at the active screen, “I said, you asked Data to let me work in engineering.” He let that sink in, leaving the rest unspoken. If he had never been sent to engineering, he would never have met Anna, and if he had never met Anna…. Lore wasn’t sure how to complete that thought.

     “Oh.” Troi said, clearing her throat, “Well, eh….”

     “Thank you.” He did not look at her, and his voice was hardly warm and friendly, but for him it was downright sappy.

     A look of astonishment came over her, quickly molding into a more common smile, “You know what, Lore? I take back what I said to you in the café the other day. I said, ‘I had no idea you were such a sweetheart.’ That’s not true. I’ve known for _quite some time.”_

     _Miserable human!_ “I think I’m done talking to you, _Counselor._ You can go.” He waved his hand at her irritably.

     She raised both hands, laughing, but instead of backing away she stepped forward and looked at the screen that had been absorbing his attention since she arrived. “Are you going somewhere?”

     He shot her a smirk and reached for the dark blue jacket he had left draped over the console. He shrugged into it and smoothed the front. Troi gave him an up and down glance, followed by a questioning look.

     “What?” He said, looking down at his clothes. He wore a dark blue suit paired with a grey high-neck vest and white shirt. It was similar to the clothing he had worn while playing human on _Sayul Nor_ station, though it was quite different than the typical black pants and grey sweater that he usually wore. He had thought it a good idea, perhaps, to dress in a manner more like human civilians, considering where he was going.

     “Nothing. I just….” Troi trailed off and actually brought her hand to her lips as if she might laugh.

     “Are you _laughing_ at me?” He said, outraged.

     “No.” She insisted, shaking her head. “You look fine, Lore. In fact… you look better than fine. Are you…” She laughed again, “Are you _dressed up?”_

He met that with an insulted snort and turned back to his screen, “I’m merely attempting to blend in better. Besides, you need to focus, Counselor. Weren’t you busy lecturing me like a child? Don’t get off track.”

     Troi ignored this and went with his other statement, “Blend in where? Where are you going?”

     He shot her that same sarcastic grin, “I’m going on vacation. I’ve decided the mountains suit me better than the tropics, since I don’t tan.”

     Troi’s eyes widened a little, “Um…have you thought about this? Starfleet personnel might be accustomed to seeing you, but not every place on Earth is like—.”

     “Don’t waste your time. I’m going.” He said, “I would have gone sooner, only….” He trailed off. Why was he telling her any of this anyway? It was none of her business.

     “Only…it was the middle of night in Idaho?”

     Lore spun around and shot her a frown, “Let me guess. LaForge.”

     “No. Anna’s mentioned her home several times to me, but you just told me where you’re going with that reaction.” Troi said. She was sure to put on her own satisfied smile, to rival his previous one.

     “Are you going to tell me I’m making a mistake?” He said, deactivating the console screen, “Are you going to tell me I should just stay here and leave her alone, ‘give her time’, or some other empty sentiment?”

     Troi shook her head, “No. You wouldn’t listen to me if I did.”

     _That’s right._

“But, some friendly advice?” Troi said, her tone now completely serious. She waited for his unamused glance, then said, “Don’t force a litany of questions onto her. Just be with her.”

     “That’s all I want.” He mumbled.

     “What?”

     “Nothing.” He said, stepping away from the console, “I’m leaving now and I should warn you, my security on this ship includes a total vacuum.”

     “Charming.” She said as she joined him. They walked the short distance back toward the airlock. Troi took the opportunity to take in the ship; the arched doorways and deep red carpet, the bare ceiling angles where decorative molding had been recently removed. As they stepped through the first airlock and Lore turned to activate the security measurements behind him, Troi said, “I don’t think I know your ship’s name.”

     “It doesn’t have a name.” He replied.

     “Ah.” She smiled, “It’s bad luck not to name a ship, you know.”

     Lore gave her a bemused smile, “Really? I guess that explains everything.”

    

    

    

    


	38. Chapter 38

**_“You’re weird!”_ **

 

     The wind had really picked up since that morning, sending a biting chill right through the loose knit layer of little Trevor Mills’ sweater. His mother had told him to wear a thermal undershirt before he left, but he hated doing that. The stupid thing always came untucked, and he couldn’t move around in it anyway. What self respecting kid could climb a tree or manage to sneak over the fence at the old silver mine with a bunch of clothing wrapping him up like a mummy? Besides, the sun had been out all day, bright and fierce, and that should have been enough.

     Another gust drove through, sending a shiver down his nine-year-old back. He leaned over his handle bars and looked down, gulping as he did. This was a bad idea. He had done some pretty stupid stuff in his time—well, stuff his Mom said was pretty stupid—but this was it. There was no way anyone could ride down that hill without using the brakes. It was suicide!

     “Ah, look! He’s shakin’ in his boots!” Taunted the wiry blonde kid standing next to him. He too stood over the center bar of his bicycle, squeezing and releasing the handle brakes as he hooted. “I’ve done it like a hundred times. It’s nothin’!”

     “You’re so full of it!” Trevor tossed back, giving Jesse a nasty look, “I bet you haven’t done it even once. One of us would have seen you.”

     Jesse screwed up his face and shoved Trevor’s handle bar, almost causing him to fall over, “Yeah? Well I don’t _always_ hang out with you guys, you know. Don’t believe me? I’ll do it right now.”

     “Whatever.” Gene muttered. He was the short, heavy kid standing next to Trevor, his bike tilted to the side because he was not yet tall enough to straddle it straight up. He rubbed the cuff of his jacket across his red, chapped nose. “I’m not doing it. My Dad’ll kill me.”

     “You’re both wusses!” Jesse lifted himself up onto the bike seat and readied one foot on the pedals. “Watch my back tire. I won’t even touch the brakes until I pass that second house down there. The blue one.”

     Trevor swallowed hard and said nothing. He wanted to see this, although he seriously doubted Jesse would make it all the way to the bottom without using his brakes. No way! He would be going as fast a land craft if he did that.

     “See you losers at the bottom.” Jesse gloated as he pushed off, ducking his head low and angling out his arms like a speed racer. Trevor kept his eyes riveted on Jesse’s back as he began sailing down the black paved expanse of High Street. There were plenty of houses on High Street once you got up the hill and it leveled out on the side of the mountain, but here the street just seemed to fall off back down into down, both sides too steep for any buildings. It was a favorite pastime in winter for kids to sled down to the street below, always with some wimpy kid keeping watch at the intersection for land craft or any grownups who might come to yell at them. That was safe enough, Trevor guessed, but bikes were another thing. Crashing into a slushy snow bank wasn’t nearly as bad as taking a header over a set of handle bars.

     Jesse was really picking up speed as he reached the half point, his thin Autumn jacket billowing open behind him. Trevor kept his eyes fixed, because if he saw that back tire skid even a little bit he was going to let Jesse have it. But, it didn’t. Jesse flew down the hill and onto the flat top of First Street, not even braking for the intersection. He became a speck all the way down until he almost reached King Street. From there he stopped, turned, and lifted his hand in their direction. He was too far away for definition, but Trevor just knew that jerk had shot him the middle finger!

     “Whoa!” Gene cried, his jaw open, “That was awesome!”

     Trevor lifted his hand from the rubber grip and rubbed it down his pant leg. Now he was going to have to do it. No way he could go to school Monday with Jesse telling everyone what a chicken he was. If it was later in the day he could have pretended to get a message on the mini data-pad his Mom made him take everywhere, maybe demanding that he come home for dinner, but it was way too early. Even Gene wouldn’t buy that excuse.

     “You going?” Gene asked.

     “Yeah, I’m going.” Trevor said, puffing himself up and shifting the bike from side to side. Jesse had already ridden back to the base of the hill and was running up with his bike to meet them again. Almost no one could ride their bike up the High Street hill.

     “See? I told you. Nothing to it.” Jesse positioned his bike next to Gene and straddled it again, “We’re waitin’, Mills.”

     “Shut up.” Trevor said as he lifted himself on to the seat and looked down. From this high he could see nothing but rooftops, and this wasn’t even the highest street in town. Looking down from Olive or Silver Streets was downright terrifying. In the typical fashion of nine year olds, Trevor screwed up his face and became determined. If Jesse could do it, so could he. Jesse wasn’t so hot!

     “See ya at the bottom!” He called confidently as he pushed off. Almost immediately the biting wind went through his sweater and puckered his skin into gooseflesh. He flew down past the pine trees on either side. On his right, the trees gave way to the rooftops of the houses on the next street below, their backyards butted right up against the sudden climb of the mountain.

      Just as he passed the half way mark, Trevor could feel his handle bars really starting to vibrate. He was going way too fast, and the bike was starting to shake more than he could handle. He didn’t have hand brakes like Jesse, and he was already tempted to push his pedals back and slow down, just a bit, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew Jesse would be watching just as closely as he had, hoping he wussed out. But, he was going way too fast!

     The bottom of the hill was coming, and Trevor knew that he hit the last little dip before the flattop at this speed he was going to completely lose it. Fear gripped him, making the freezing goosebumps all the worse. He didn’t want to crash in the street, not on the hard pavement. In a last ditch effort, he directed his bike to the side, trying to ride in the grass at the side of the road. It might slow him down and, technically, he didn’t use his brakes! Jesse couldn’t fault him for just being smarter, could he? But, he wasn’t smarter. He figured that out the moment his front tire hit a broken off piece of asphalt, jerking the wheel to the left.

     The bike went down, and him along with it, on the gravelly shoulder just before the intersection of First and High Streets. The mix of rocks, grass, and dirt, showed that there had once been a paved sidewalk where he landed, probably centuries ago. This was it. His life was over. He was going to be deader than a doornail, all broken up and bloody like those soldiers his older brother played with in holonovels. And even if he didn’t die a heroic death on High Street hill—because it would _totally_ be an awesome way to go—his Mom would kill him anyway!

     All of these thoughts rushed through his mind in the three second it took him to tumble over a few time and skid across the gravel on his hands. The bike kept going, and actually came to stop a few feet ahead of him.

     _Oh! I’m dead! My arm! My leg! My brain!_ Trevor lay still, listening to the screaming behind him. He remained still, waiting for Jesse and Gene to come running for him, but…they didn’t. He looked through the dust and the blinding mid-day sun and saw them running, yes, but running the other way!

     “Oh, God! Oh, God! My Dad’s gonna kill me!” Jesse cried like a blubbering baby as he turned tail and began pushing his bike the rest of the way up High Street. As soon as he reached the crest of the hill, he hopped on and started riding into the dark shade of the moutain.

     Gene was scurrying after him, calling, “Hey, man! I think he’s really hurt! What are we gonna do? Jess!”

     Trevor was too scared to move. What if his leg was broken and the bone was all sticking out, weird and bloody like on old movies? Or, what if his head had split wide open and his brains were showing? He shouldn’t move, because then the brains would squish out or something. Yep. He was sure of it. He was dying, even if he couldn’t feel it yet, and what would his Mom say when—.

     “Hey!” Trevor shouted as he felt a strong tug at his back. The front of his sweater became tight around him as something grabbed it from behind and pulled. In an instant he was up and on his feet. He wobbled slightly, but almost immediately saw that he was okay. His legs weren’t broken, since he was standing on them, and his brain must still be in his head because he was _thinking_ about his legs being broken! The only thing he was fully aware of was that his hands really hurt. He lifted them up and looked. They were filthy and covered with bloody scratches and peeled back skin. Tiny bits of gravel were embedded here and there.

     _But, how did I get up?_ Trevor looked around, then up, and saw standing next to him a tall man in a dark suit. All grown-ups looked tall to Trevor, but the fact that the sun was behind the man, casting him in the dark shade, seemed to make him look even taller. Trevor didn’t know what to say. He was waiting for it. The inevitable ‘what are you kids doing?’, and ‘where do you live? I’m telling your mother.’ He waited.

     “If you had braced your arms wider, you would have been able to better control the vibrations in steering column.” The man said in a low, but strong voice.

     Trevor stared like an idiot, “Uh…you mean on my bike?”  

     “Yes.” The man replied. He took a step to the side, bringing his features out of the shade and into full view.

     Trevor’s paralysis broke at once, “Oh, holy crap! What are you?” He looked up into a pair of gold eyes set into a goldish-white face. They weren’t gold like the metal, but more like honey or amber. Trevor had never seen anything like it. Of course, the only aliens Trevor had ever seen in person were a Vulcan and a blue skinned guy with white hair; he couldn’t remember what they were called.

     The man looked down at the boy and frowned a little, “I’m…not human.”

     “Well, duh!” Trevor retorted, too surprised and excited to remember any of the manners his mother had tried to teach him, “Where are you from? What are you called?”

     The man’s frown only intensified, and he began looking all around as if taking everything in for the first time. Trevor glared up at him, because he didn’t seem to be paying attention to him any more. “Hey!” Trevor called, “Thanks for helping me up and stuff. Are you gonna tell my Mom? Please, don’t tell my Mom.”

     He returned his attention to the boy, “I don’t know who your mother is, and if I did why would I tell her anything? What you do is your own business.”

     _My own business?_ This was one really weird grown-up, but Trevor had learned all sorts of crazy stuff in school about other species and how they did things.

     “I’m looking for a particular house.” The man said, still looking all around. “Do you know where Anna Hall lives?”

     “Uhhh….” Trevor looked up and chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Well, I know where the Halls live. My older brother Logan has had a crush on Louise Hall since he was, like, in the ninth grade a million years ago. Him and his friends egged her front door one year!”

     The man’s brow lifted curiously, “The Halls? Are they the only family here with that last name?”

     Trevor huffed and rubbed his hands on his sweater front. It caused him to wince, since he had only managed to drive some of the gravel bits deeper into his skin. “I think so. I mean, I don’t know anyone with the last name Hall accept them. That’s where my friend Gene lives.”

     The man smiled slightly, “Good. Where is it?”

     Trevor walked the few steps to his bike and reached to pick it up. Everything looked fine until he got it up right and tried to roll it a little. The front wheel stuck as it rubbed against the strut. He looked over and saw, clearly, that the front rim was badly bent. “Ah, man! Now what I gonna do?”

     The man, with some impatience, took the bike from Trevor’s grasp and upended it, bringing the front wheel vertical. With both hands, he gripped the front tire and rim and began pulling and pushing in a strange way, almost as if he was kneading dough. Trevor heard the faint creak of metal as the man set the bike back down and rolled it toward him. Trevor grabbed the handle bars and rolled the bike back and forth a few times, marveling at the ease.

     “Hey, thanks! This is great!” He straddled the bike quickly and bounced on the pedals, testing it. “My Mom’s already gonna be mad about my hands. I need her mad about my bike too.”

     The man laughed a little, at what Trevor could not be certain. Finally, he said, “Are you going to tell me where the Halls live?”

     “Oh, yeah!” Trevor said, as if suddenly remembering. “They live in this big old house at the top of the Elm Street path. You know, where Elm Street stops down here, but keeps going up on the mountain.”

     The man rolled his eyes, “I’ve memorized the street map layout for this settlement. Just give me the grid address.”

     Trevor made a raspberry sound with his lips, “I don’t know the _address_. I just know where it is.”

     “How can you know where something is and not know its grid location?”

     “I don’t know.” Trevor huffed, “I don’t know grids or whatever. I’m just a kid. I can show you, though, ‘cause I live on Residence Street, and I usually get there by going right by the Halls’ place.” Trevor hopped up on his seat and made a few tight turns, once again marveling at how easily his tire had been fixed, “You coming?”

     The man hesitated, and once again made a quick observation of his surroundings, “Is it far?”

     “No.” Trevor made another tight turn and skidded to a sideways stop, “Just up this street here, around the corner. Come on.”

     The man appeared reluctant, but began following Trevor at a good pace. As Trevor rode around in front of him, making turns to come back so that he wouldn’t get too far ahead, he was able to really look at him. Wow! He had never seen an alien like him, and he just bet that stupid Jesse had never seen one either.

     “So, where are you from?” Trevor asked as they passed a long yellow house and made a left hand turn onto the next street. This street felt more like an alley, since it was faced with the backs of houses rather than their fronts. Gardens and green lawns glistened in the sun behind hedges or wrought iron fences.

     “I am from Omicron Theta.” The man said finally.

     “Omicron Theta.” Trevor tested the word, memorizing it so he could look it up later and shove it in Jesse and Gene’s faces. “Never heard of it. So, are you called a, um, _Omicron Thetan_?”

     The man smirked and picked up his pace a little, “No.”

     “So what are you called then?” Trevor pressed. No one was going to believe him if he couldn’t say what species the man was. That would sound pretty stupid.

     “Lore.” He replied.   

     “Oh, so you’re species are the Lore? Okay.” Trevor rode ahead and made a wide turn, swirling his bike into a tight figure eight. “Come on, we’re almost there, Mr. Lore.”

     “Thank you, _Mr. Human._ ”

     Trevor seemed to get a kick out of this, and hooted out a laugh, “Mister! I’m only nine! So, what are you looking for the Halls for?”

     They were more than half way down the street now. It ended at the mountain face before taking a sharp right turn that led off into the main body of the town. Lore headed in the direction until Trevor stopped and hopped off his bike.

     “No. This way. Up the path.” Trevor said as he began pushing his bike by the handlebars. A well worn dirt path went up the mountainside, as if it were merely a continuation of the street below. Lore followed, quickly overtaking Trevor as the boy struggled to push his bike up the steep incline. Lore grabbed the center of the handle bars and pulled the bike after him. Trevor gratefully let him take it and pulled a stick down from one of the overhanging trees. He used it to swat at the dried Autumn foliage above, their orange and red leaves just barely hanging on.

     “Soo….” Trevor began again, “What are you looking for the Halls for? Do you know them? Are you one of Louise’s college teachers?”

     “That’s three questions.” Lore said flatly.

     “Yeah,” Trevor said, shrugging, “So?”

     “I know Anna Hall. I don’t know anyone else with that surname.” They reached the crest of the hill and, after only a few feet, a paved street appeared. Like High Street above, this street was carved into the side of the mountain and remained cloaked in the heavy shade of old growth pine trees. Houses lined the street on the right. Rooftops from the street below, on the left.

     “Here you go.” Trevor said as he grabbed his handle bars from Lore’s grasp and immediately hopped on. He blew on his open palms, still trying to dislodge some of the stinging gravel from his fall.

     Lore looked around, “Here?”

     “Yeah, there it is.” Trevor pointed up to the first house, which they now stood in front of. “That’s where Louise lives. I know, because I followed my brother this one time when he snuck up to her window in the middle of the night and put a live pigeon in there. It pooped all over her room!”

     Lore frowned in a confused kind of way, “This is your brother who had a ‘crush’ on this Louise?”

     “Yeah!” Trevor said, laughing.

     “You mean he did this to someone he’s fond of?”

     Trevor shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. He’s always messing with her. I gotta go. Oh, and _please_ don’t tell my Mom! If she finds out I crashed going down the hill she’ll ground me!”

     “I won’t.” Lore assured him.

     “Okay. Man! This is so awesome! I haven’t met a lot of aliens. Bye!” With that Trevor, hopped on his bike and picked up a good pace down the street, weaving from side to side as he did. Jesse was going to be so jealous. Just wait until he told him he got to meet a Lore, or whatever, and he didn’t. That was way better than riding bikes down some stupid hill.

 

***

 

     Lore did not have to wait long for the child to disappear down the street. As soon as he was gone, he made a detailed observation of his surroundings. He was on a narrow mountainside road—Elm Street, to be precise—facing a timber retention wall and a steep incline to the house above. A long flight of wooden stairs, edged with pruned vines and hedges, led up the side of the mountain to the home’s main yard. Lore frowned. He had no way of knowing if the child’s directions had any value. Who was this Louise Hall? Who were the _Halls_? He had simply assumed that Anna kept her own residence, but he had no way of finding out without hacking into the regional public records database. Such a thing would hardly have concerned him had it not been for LaForge’s sarcastic comment about getting arrested. He certainly did not need that.

     Lore approached the stairs and began a slow climb, staying to the edges to keep the squeak of the old wood to a minimum. Once up half way, he looked over his shoulder at the town below. The entire place was something completely outside his realm of experience. First, everything was old. Most of the buildings he had seen were two hundred years old at a minimum. The streets had clearly been designed during a time when mass land vehicle travel was the norm, but now they were mostly relegated to pedestrians.

     Luckily, he had managed to encounter none of those pedestrians when he beamed down. He had decided to arrive at the edge of the mountain that backed the town, since it was logical to assume that most of the residents would be located in the busier commercial section of the place. He had been right, since the only people he saw were the three children in the midst of their self-destructive activity.

     Seeing no other alternative, he continued up the stairs toward the sun speckled yard. The house was large and old, painted in a combination of rich green and brown. A deck wrapped around the front in an L shape, it’s carved beams hanging with planters and tinkering iron wind chimes. Lore listened, and through the rustle of the wind and the chimes he was certain he heard music coming from inside. As he approached the short flight of steps leading up to the deck, he could see that most of the windows on the ground floor were open, as was the front door. He approached the open door and leaned cautiously inside. He saw no one, but the music was quite clear now. He could even see the source of it, an antiquated turn table audio device that rested atop a sideboard table in the left hand room.

     “ _Oh! A corset can do a lot for a laaa-dy! Especially if that lady’s got a lot!”*_

Lore listened with no little amusement to the belting female voice coming from the device, but it was not the only one. The lyrics were being oversung by another voice coming from the back of the house. Straight ahead, a tall staircase led to landing, which made a left turn and disappeared into the upper levels. Past that a narrow hallway led into a den of some sort, which had even more rooms beyond it. Ignoring the rooms immediately to his left and right, Lore walked along this center corridor and through an already open door to the den beyond.

     _“And a lady can do a lot for that…cor—set, by filling in the bottom and top!”_

     Lore passed through the tall room, lined floor to ceiling with old books, picture frames, and every other imaginable kind of curio—Dr. Soong had kept such things—and was about to reach the door to the next room when a heavy thumping sound caught his attention. Lore spun around and was immediately met with the dull brown eyes of a dog. The animal sat in a lazy, sideways fashion, its front paws standing just off the edge of a fluffy bed. Lore took a step back, momentarily worried that the creature might exhibit some kind of aggression, but that fear was almost immediately put to rest. Rather than showing any sign of hostility, the flop-eared dog nudged forward and thumped its fat tail against the floor in a kind of encouragement.

     Lore frowned and rolled his eyes a little. Why humans kept sub-mammals in their homes, he would never understand. It did not appear that the animal was willing to expend the energy necessary to reach him, so Lore turned back around to face the other doorway. In the next room, he saw the source of the boisterous, off-key singing. A young woman, perhaps just a teenager, bounced around a kitchen island filled with various food items and dishes. She was short, with rod straight black hair that just touched her shoulder in a bob. She swirled a wooden spoon through a large boiling pot on the cooking range.

     “— _tighten up the middle till you’re gasping for air! Oh! A corset can do a lot for a laaa-dy, cuz it helps to show a man what she’s got!”_ At the completion of this last stanza, the girl swished her hips from side to side with happy enthusiasm.

     That was when Lore lost it. He burst out laughing.

     The woman spun around like a top, dropping the wooden spoon and releasing a horrified scream.

     “Whoa!” Lore cried in response, putting his hands up. _Shit! Shit!_

“Christ!” The woman dove for the kitchen island and grabbed a heavy chopping knife from the cutting board there.

     _Just great…._

     “Who the fuck—!” The woman stumbled back with the blade held out in front of her. Almost as quickly, though, she stopped. She straightened her angry posture and began lowering the knife.

     “Relax!” Lore cried, “I’m not going to harm you!”

     The woman released a heavy breath and tossed the knife into the nearby sink in a casual sort of way. Despite being exactly what he wanted, this surprised Lore immensely. He remained perfectly still as the woman brought a hand to her chest and took a few calming breaths.

     “You scared the shit out of me! You could have knocked or something!”

     Lore glanced at the knife in the sink, his confusion only increasing, “You don’t think I’m going to hurt you?”

     At this, the woman rolled her eyes—actually rolled her eyes!—as she bent down to pick up the spoon she had dropped. “No.” She said with a grunt, “I doubt my big sister would get involved with someone who would hurt me. But, clearly she doesn’t place manners very high on her list. You should have knocked. Just walking into people’s houses…. Are you nuts?”

     Finally dropped his cautious stance, Lore took a few more steps into the room, “You know who I am?”

     “People who were actually born yesterday know who you are.” The girl tossed back, “So, yeah, I definitely do. You’re Anna’s boyfriend.”

     Lore’s eyes widened and his grin was a mix of delight and amusement. _Boyfriend._ What a ridiculous word. Where did humans come up with this stuff? 

     “Oh, no. Wait.” The girl continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “That was _before_ you faked your death like a jerk and left her high and dry. My mistake.”

     He made some kind of defensive grumbling sound, but said nothing in response to that. What was he supposed to do? Defend himself? He had not even planned on anything like this. He had expected to find Anna alone in her Earth residence, but in hindsight he should have understood what she had meant when she said ‘home’ to B-4. She meant the place where she grew up. With a growing sense of dread, Lore looked around the room. This was not Anna’s house. This was Anna’s _family’s_ house.  

     He looked at the girl, “What is your name?”

     “Louise. I’m Anna’s little sister.” She pulled open a drawer, retrieved a clean wooden spoon, and set about scooping diced onions into a boiling pot. As she did so, she shook her head from side to side and laughed, “Oh, man. This is going to be fun. I can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s face when they see you here. Anna’s gonna freak!”

     “Why? Did she say something to you?” The concerned words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

     Louise turned around and smiled at him, “Man, you’ve got it _bad,_ don’t you? That’s good. If you weren’t really into my sis, I wouldn’t want you around. I would sick my vicious attack dog on you. Huh, Maggie?”

     At the mention of its name, the dog in the next room responded with a few vigorous tail thumps.

     “I’m terrified.” Lore retorted.

     “Ha!” Louise chuckled, obviously finding this hilarious, “Trust me. She’s all stealth!”

     Lore moved further into the kitchen, but he was growing more uncomfortable with each passing minute. Not only did he not know what to do, being suddenly thrown together with one of Anna’s relations, but the girl was…strange. Not five minutes after brandishing a knife at him, she was tossing sarcastic jokes as if she knew him, as if she was comfortable with him. It was bizarre.

     “Are you human?” Lore asked suddenly.

     Louise tilted her head, “Um…yeah. What did you think I was?”

     Lore narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “You aren’t a Betazoid? An empath of some kind?”

     At this, Louise laughed, “I wish! Sorry, just plain old human. I can’t read your mind. Why?”

     “I am trying to figure out why you’re acting so…relaxed around me. Aren’t you afraid?”

     Louise shook her head and continued to stir something on the stove, “I already told you. My sister knows how to judge people. I trust her judgment better than anything else. By the way, they should be back soon. She went into town with everyone else to pick up some stuff, say hi to some people. You know. We’re having a big dinner to celebrate her being back. Haven’t seen her since she joined the Enterprise crew, you know. That was near three years ago.”

     Lore perused the table of food as Louise continued to talk, oblivious to whether he was listening or not. He was, of course, in a half hearted manner. It wasn’t until she mentioned his name, however, that his eyes shot up.

     “…Lore this, Lore that. She was so happy. I mean, _happy._ I’ve never seen her like that. She sent me a subspace message telling me all about this planet where you guys crashed and how you carried her through the woods. _Totally_ romantic, by the way. Don’t be embarrassed, though. I mean, it’s not like she wrote every little detail about you guys, just general stuff. Still, I know when my sister is happy, and that was happy.”

     Lore stood silent, resisting the pull of a smile at his lips. No wonder the girl had such a good relationship with Anna. Anna was half El’Aurian, the race of listeners, and this girl obviously loved to talk. The urge to smile did not last, though, as he could not help but the past tense of her statements. Anna _was_ happy.

     A little cooking timer shaped like a rooster went off above the stove. Louise grabbed it, silenced it, and immediately reached for a pair of oven mitts on the counter.

    “Lasagna.” She said in a sing-song voice as she pulled down the over door and lifted out a large sheet pan brimming with the savory concoction. She looked at the center island, “Crap. Can you clear a place there, on the other side?”

     Lore pushed a cutting board full of vegetables out of the way and removed several unidentifiable bottles. Louise came around the table just as Lore heard a very faint crunching sound. It was nothing particularly noticeable, just some random animal sound from outside. At the back of a kitchen, an open door led to another wide covered deck. Standing on the deck, just in front of the open door, was a small brown squirrel, furiously working its way through an acorn. The sudden scrabble of claws on hardwood indicated that Lore was not the only person to have seen this. The dog, which had shown nothing but the most dedicated laziness moments before, came tearing out of the study toward the back deck. The dog slammed headlong into the back of Louise’s legs before continuing on its war path.

     Louise tripped forward, than overcompensated by leaning back. As she went down, it was clear the scalding tray of lasagna was going to fall on her. Lore tried to catch it, but only managed to redirect its fall, flipping it over so that the mess of cheese and sauce coated his hands before splattering to the floor next to Louise.

     “Maggie! You stupid dog!” Louise cried.

     Lore reached down to help her up, but stopped when he noted the scalding hot food stuff all over his hands. He stepped back, holding them out as he scanned the room for a towel or other appropriate cleaning item.

     “Damn.” Louise muttered. She grabbed the counter edge and pulled herself up. “Hold on. I’ve got a towel over there.”

     He stepped back to let her by waited, wondering with all the curiosity of a skeptic if luck was a real thing and whether or not had even the slightest amount of it. He had his answer a moment later. The thud of footsteps, the rustle of coats being removed, and Lore faced a hallway full of people.

     “Oh my God!” A tall blonde woman cried, followed by the startled gasps of a half dozen other people. Their eyes were focused on his dark red stained hands.

     Anna pushed her way forward and came to a skidding stop. “Lore? What are you doing here?”

     As if on cue, Louise poked her head around the corner and said, “Hey, Ma! We’re going to have to throw something else together. Maggie put the kibosh on the lasagna!”

    


	39. Chapter 39

**_“You’re weird!”_ **

     The room was a chaos of voices as people shouted their surprise and demanded answers. Two large men pressed through the hallway and came to startled stop as they entered the room.

     “Hey, Ma?” Louise continued, “Did you hear me about the lasagna?”

     An older woman, perhaps in her sixties, with elegantly graying black hair and deep brown eyes came forward, “Yes, yes, Louise. I heard you. Um….” She continued to look at Lore with some surprise.

     “Oh! Here you go.” Louise tossed a dish towel at Lore, which he caught and immediately used to wipe the red sauce from his hands. He shifted his gaze to each of them in turn, waiting for something terrible to happen as he went to the sink and hurriedly washed the oily mess of tomato sauce from his hands. 

     _Say something, Anna._

     “What…what are you doing here?” Anna said again. She was chewing on her bottom lip so nervously that Lore feared she might actually draw blood.

      He dried his hands on his coat as he stood a step toward her, but there was little point in whispering. Everyone was standing so close, it didn’t matter. “I came to see you. I’m on vacation.”

     Louise laughed openly at that, breaking the thick silence once again. “ _Maaaa_.” She intoned, “There’s lasagna all over the kitchen _flooor_.”

     “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Louise!” The older woman stomped forward, gave Lore a quick look as she pressed past him, and moved into the kitchen. Another woman, whom Lore  recognized as Anna’s sister Amy, also rushed past into the kitchen, her hand cradling the underside of her large pregnant belly as she did. The rest of the group, made of up of two men and one other woman, remained in the hallway, staring.

     Anna muttered something as she brought both hands to her forehead.

     “So, um, annie….” The older of the two men began, “This is your friend Lore?”

     Anna didn’t respond, or couldn’t. She was still anxiously rubbing her temple.

     The man, who appeared to be the same age as the older woman, stepped forward. He was a few inches taller than Lore, with thick salt and pepper hair and generally heavy features. “Hello.” He said, a bit cautiously, “I’m Eugene Hall, Anna’s father.”

     Lore opened his mouth, despite having no idea what he was going to say.

This appeared to pull Anna out of her daze. She rushed forward, grabbed Lore’s hand, and yanked him toward an archway that led into another room. “Come here!” She demanded as she pulled him along. Lore went willingly as he ignored the curious looks coming from the rest of the Hall family. Anna didn’t stop until they were back at the front of the house in a large parlor. This room, like the den, was filled with bits of art and antiques; gaudy ornate furniture from centuries past, mixed with contemporary items of utilitarian use.

     Anna released his hand and stood close to him, though he suspected it was just to muffle her voice, “What are you doing here? Wh—why would you come here?” Her voice was cracking, almost as if she was panicked.

     His answers were at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to know what happened at Utopia Planetia. He wanted to know if she was running away from them or him or both. But, before he could let loose with the questions, Troi’s damnable advice came to his mind again. _Don’t demand answers. Just be with her._

     He took one of her hands and pressed it between both of his, “I was worried about you. You left quickly.”

     She swallowed hard and looked at her feet for a moment, “I just needed to see my family. That’s all. I’ve been putting it off.”

     Lore sighed. She wasn’t going to tell him. She wasn’t going to say anything about what _they_ did to her at Utopia Planetia. He knew he couldn’t make her. “All right.” He said.

     She pulled her hand away, gently but firmly, and took a step back, “I wasn’t really prepared for….” She waved a hand toward the kitchen.

     _Neither was I._ Lore could only imagine the bizarre situation in which he had placed her. He knew next to nothing about Anna’s family. What if they didn’t like him? Rather, what if they had already made a point of telling Anna they didn’t like him, and he had just intruded on an entire group of people who despised him? In so many ways, this could be worse than anything Anna endured aboard ship.

     “Annie! Mom wants to know if your friend is staying for dinner.” The younger man, who now stood in the archway of the den, asked with a kind of smirk on his face.

     Anna glared at him, “Get lost, Paul!”

     “Don’t kill the messenger.” He countered, “Mom wants to see you in the kitchen.”

     Anna groaned, loudly, and stomped toward the archway. She spun around and pointed at Lore, “Stay here! And—and don’t listen!”

     Lore knew he shouldn’t smile, that it was such a bad idea, but he did anyway. He even accented his agreement by stepping back and falling into the squeaky green velvet sofa under the window. Anna disappeared into the den, dragging Paul with her. True to his word—but it was difficult—Lore did not go out of his way to listen to the conversation in the next room. Instead, he sat and worried over it. What was she saying to them? Was she enlisting them in some kind of ploy to get rid of him? She could say he had to go, that her family demanded it, and that they needed to play along to that affect. The thought pained him. Surely they would want him to go, but the idea that Anna did as well was gut wrenching. She needed him just as much as he needed her. Could she not see that?

     “Absolutely not!” Came a firm, yet laughing, female voice. It was the older woman, Anna’s mother. Lore didn’t have to go out of his way to hear this. In fact, he would have been hard pressed to avoid the voice that now reverberated throughout the house. There were muttered responses, which Lore could not discern, followed by, “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course he’ll stay!”

     At this proclamation, Lore bolted to his feet. Did he hear that correctly? Was she speaking about him? Before he could even take a step forward, Anna, her mother, and Louise pressed through the archway and into the parlor. Anna was clearly trying to get her mother’s attention by pulling on her sleeve.

     “Mom, I…I don’t even know if he wants to stay.” Anna said, pathetically. It was clear that whatever objections had been made against the woman were going nowhere.

     “If you think I’m not going to extend a dinner invitation to the man who saved my daughter’s life _three times_ , you are mistaken.” The woman turned her attention to Lore midstride, but faltered. It seemed that her sure demeanor was not so strong when it came to actually speaking _to_ him. She cleared her throat. “Lore, would, um, you like to join us for dinner?”

     Lore glanced at Anna. He hoped against hope that he would find encouragement in her face, but he saw nothing. Her eyes were on the floor, showing nothing.

     _I’ve come this far…._ He smiled, as pleasantly as possible, and said, “Of course. Thank you.”

     “Wait a minute. Does he eat?” Paul shouted from the kitchen.

     “Shut up, Paul!” Amy snapped.

     “Yeah! _Do_ you eat?” Louise chimed in.

     Lore smirked. “Not as a matter of necessity, but I can—.”

     “Great!” Louise belted, “Ma, I can make beef stroganoff since we don’t have a lot of time. _Unless_ you want to cave and use the replicator?”

     Anna’s mother shot a scowl toward the kitchen. “No. You know how I feel about replicated food.”

     Louise groaned as if she had heard this statement a thousand times before, “Fine. I’ll see if we—Hey! He’s the guest! What’s your favorite food?”

     In an instant, Lore felt like some kind of exotic animal on display. Louise, Paul, and now Amy stared at him with rapt attention. In a flash, the answer came to him, too good to resist.

     “Lasagna.”

     Anna’s cheeks twitched up in a reluctant smile while everyone else seemed frozen. Eventually, Louise burst out laughing, “Yeah! Okay, smart ass!”

     “Louise Ann!” Anna’s mother shouted, brandishing a warning finger in her younger daughter’s face. “We could really do without your mouth today!”

     Louise pressed her lips together, but it wasn’t doing much to stifle the laughs.

     Lore swallowed hard, a physical reaction that he was not at all familiar with. He was rarely if ever nervous, but this entire situation was getting the better of him. He didn’t know much about familial relations, but it did not take an expert to know that these people were important to Anna. They’re _opinions_ were important to her. He forced a neutral, pleasant expression to his face and said, “I’m sure I’ll like whatever you prepare.”

     Anna looked up, her brow wrinkled in a confused kind of way, but she said nothing. Her mother clasped her hands together and released a heavy sigh.

     “Okay, then. That’s settled. Eh….” She looked around, “Anna, do you want to introduce everyone?”

     Lore shot Anna a bemused, almost apologetic smile. He had not meant to do this to her. He really hadn’t.

     Anna cleared her throat. When she spoke it was in a soft, reluctant voice, “Um…Lore, this is my Mom, Katherine. You already me Louise and my Dad, Eugene. This is Paul, Amy’s husband. And…where’s Beth?”

     “Hello.” Said another woman, who appeared through the front entrance of the parlor. She was older than Louise but younger than Amy, with curly brown hair pulled back into a high bun. She held a steaming mug into which she steeped a teabag repeatedly, as if she was not particularly interested in what was going on.

     “And that’s Beth, my other sister.” Anna completed.

     “ _Other_ sister.” Beth mused, “Aren’t you charming.”

     “Not now, Beth….” Anna grumbled.

     Once again, Lore forced a smile, “Hello.”

     Everyone issued nods and mixed uncomfortable mumbles. It was followed by another awkward silence, until….

     “Am I cleaning up this mess by myself in here?” Eugene called from the echo of the kitchen. As if sensing an out, Amy, Paul, and Katherine made a line for the kitchen, even squishing each other a bit as they pressed through the doorway. Louise followed only reluctantly. She was too busy shooting meaningful looks, which Anna dutifully ignored.

     “Anna, have you seen my museum box with the antique _Harper’s Bazar_ issues?” Beth asks, blowing on her tea between words. “It’s the blue one.”

     “No.” Anna said irritably, “I haven’t been home in three years. You would know better than me.”

     “Okay.” Beth shrugged and made a turn around the banister. As she made a slow walk up the stairs, Lore caught a glimpse of her face in profile, along with the pointed tips of her ears.

     _That’s interesting._

     In a moment they were alone, or seemingly so. Lore had a sneaking suspicion that the whole lot of them were standing around with their ears pressed to the old wooden walls. He dismissed the thought, and looked at Anna, trying to read her expression.

     “I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I thought this was your house. I thought you lived here alone.”

     “It’s okay.” She said quickly. “I…I’m sorry I left in such a hurry.”

     He glanced at the parlor entrance. Seeing no one, he stepped closer to her and dared to run his fingers over her cheek, brushing hair behind her ear. “Why did you leave?”

     She shook her head, but—and this gave him more joy than she would ever know—she did not pull away from his touch. “It doesn’t matter.” She said.

     _Yes it does._ He continued to brush his thumb across the soft skin of her cheek. She was letting him do it, and that was only increasing his urge to say wild, repetitive things to her. _I love you. I’ve missed you so much. I should never have left. Please forgive me._

     “Annie?” Katherine said softly from the archway.

     Anna turned around as Lore quickly brought his hand back to his side. “Yeah, Ma?”

     Katherine’s soft brown eyes shifted and she smiled sheepishly, as if she knew she had interrupted something, “Um…maybe you could play for a while? Louise only wants to listen to those ancient show tunes of hers. You father can’t stand them.”

     Anna looked at the baby grand piano that stood on the other side of the room. The top was closed and covered with picture frames and what appeared to be a snow globe collection. She nodded, shot her mother a forced smile, and walked toward the piano. Lore followed her and, once again to his immense happiness, she sat on the far end of the bench to give him room. He sat next to her and waited, enthralled. He had never heard her play. He had mentioned it only once, before he left the _Enterprise,_ but at the time she had dismissed it as something she ‘didn’t do anymore.’

     “My Mom wishes I had stuck with music.” Anna mumbled as she lifted the cover and removed a long silk cloth from the keys. He watched as she drew a few breaths and rubbed at her eyes. She looked tired, once again. He wanted to know why, but he resisted the urge to ask. Without any preparation or warm up, Anna placed her fingers on the keys and immediately brought the room into a temperate, low melody, interspersed with singing little glimpses from the upper keys. Lore did not know the piece of music; he only knew that he liked it.

     “They didn’t think Starfleet was for me.” She continued. The way she spoke, low and with her eyes focused on the keys, it was almost as if she was not speaking to him, but rather thinking out loud, “Everyone thought it was too stringent, too regimented for me. ‘Why do you want to have a rank and take orders?’ That was what Beth said. I played the piano, professionally. I even played a reception for the Bolian Prime Minister. Did you know that?” 

     Lore remained silent, watching her. He got the impression that he was not meant to respond.

     “I did well in math and science in school, but I never really had any interest, not like I did with the music.” She continued playing, letting her eyes close here and there where the melody took on a more intense quality. “So, why did I join Starfleet? I don’t know. I really don’t. I played a concert in San Francisco where there were a lot of Starfleet officers in attendance and…and it just struck me.” Here, she laughed in a bitter kind of way, “I had to lie on my admissions essay. ‘Why do you want to be a Starfleet Officer?’ Huh! If I had told the truth, that I had no idea _why_ , that I just had this unbelievable sense that it was _right thing_ to do, they never would have let me in. Even my half El’Aurien parentage wouldn’t gotten me past that.”

     Lore continued to watch her, his expression becoming more wistful by the moment. He was not sure if he understood what she was telling him, _if_ she was telling him anything beyond the blunt facts of the words.

     She entered a more vibrant section of the piece and she pressed the extender pedal, drawing the notes out. “So…you know what I wrote? In the admissions essay? I wrote about how _proud_ I would be to represent the Federation by serving with the best and the brightest. I wrote all about Starfleet being the…the pinnacle of everything best about the Federation. How noble it is, how forward thinking, how opened-minded and tolerant—.”

     Here she made her first mistake in the playing, tripping over an arpeggio that was elementary to her obvious skill. She gasped and leaned forward a bit. Her chin wobbled with a pent up emotion. “ _Tolerant._ ” She whispered through clenched teeth. She was losing her composure now. In that moment, it was all too clear to him.

     “I’m sorry, Anna.” He whispered.

     She clenched her hands in her lap now, completely giving up the effort of playing. “You know, don’t you? The interview?”

     Suddenly, he could not care less about the other people in the house. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head, “I’m sorry, Anna. I’m so sorry.”

     She made almost no noise, but he knew she was crying. Her shoulders shook and her breaths came in uneven sputters. He was angry, for anger was an instinctual response for him, but more than that he was worried. He was more worried about Anna’s misery than he was concerned about ‘getting even.’ It was a shocking change that he did not, at that moment, have the time to fully appreciate. He rubbed his hand over her back, soothing her in a way that was terribly foreign to him and at the same time completely natural. It seemed that everything foreign to him felt natural where Anna was concerned.

     “Don’t apologize.” She managed to say, “It isn’t your fault. It is what it is.”

     He could not disagree more. Still, pointing that out wasn’t going to benefit anyone. He pulled her closer, savoring it while he could, when he felt her hand rest on the back of his neck.

     She whispered, “I’ve missed you.”

     _Oh!_ He bent his face down to meet hers.

     “Aunt Annie!” Came a squealing little voice, “Did you bring me something cool?”

     Lore looked up to see a miniature human, no older than six years of age, bouncing down the stairs. The little girl had bright blond hair and vibrant light blue eyes, exactly like those of the much smaller child that accompanied her. The little girl held hands with an even smaller child, this one a boy, who was managing the difficult operation of walking down the stairs.

     “Angie!” Anna called, immediately wiping her eyes and forcing her face into the biggest, brightest smile.

     Recognition dawned as Lore understood who this was. He had once observed a subspace call between Anna and her sister Amy, and this child had hopped around in the background. No doubt the younger child was the very same that Amy had been pregnant with in that same video call.

     “Hey!” Angie cried as they reached the bottom of the stairs and she let go of the little boy’s hand. She rushed over, arms open, but shrank at the suddenly sight of Lore. Her little demeanor shriveled into a hunch shouldered display of little girl shyness.

     Lore cringed. What was he supposed to do about a child who didn’t like them? They weren’t exactly logical creatures that could be reasoned with.

     “Hey, munchkin.” Anna said. Her voice was a bit strained with the sudden effort to sound happy, which Lore noticed, “This is my friend. You don’t have to be shy.”

     Angie twisted from side to side, “Hello.”

     “Hello.” He said mildly.

     “What are you?” Angie mumbled past the thumb she was now chewing on.

     He glanced at Anna.

     “He’s from really far away.” Anna said quickly. “From a planet you can’t even see with your telescope.”

     Of course. He should have known better. Lore nodded in agreement when the child looked at him again. She turned back to Anna, her shyness receding.

     “Why are you crying?” Angie said.

     “I’m not crying!” Anna said with a big, comical roll of her eyes, “Crying is for little babies, _like yooou_.”

     “I’m not a baby!” The girl shouted, outraged, “I’m almost seven!”

     “Oh.” Anna said, sighing heavily, “That’s too bad, because the Bajoran singing doll I brought for you is only for babies. The merchant was _very_ explicit—.”

     “I’m a baby! Give it to me!” Angie giggled, hands outstretched.

     “Later, munchkin.” Anna said, “Your Mom’s in the kitchen. Take Felix in there.”

     “Ah! Fine!” Angie groaned. She turned around and took the hand of the little boy again. He smiled in wonder at Lore as Angie pulled him by.

     Lore turned back to Anna. The interruptions were becoming downright infuriating, but it was more than likely for the best. Patience was not a virtue of his, and so having it forced by others had its benefits. He smiled at her, “Is there anyone else in this house I’m going to meet?”

     She laughed and wiped away the last remnants of her tears, “Well, eh…my nephew is around somewhere. He’s probably out with his friends. But, that’s it.”

     _Good._ He leaned toward her again, unsure if he should ask the pressing question, but it had to be done, “Will they…tolerate me?” He saw the strange look come over Anna’s face, something like worry and confusion. He knew he should probably have asked if they ‘liked’ him, but that seemed like a loaded question. Of course they did not _like_ him. That was too much. He wasn’t an idiot.

     “Does it matter?” Anna muttered. She looked away.

     “I…” He sat frozen. He was not sure what she meant by that. Why would it not matter? Didn’t she care about their opinions? Didn’t she want them to approve of—His next breath caught in his throat. Maybe it _didn’t_ matter. Maybe the entire question was a non issue because…because she had no intention of being with him.

     _No. No! She does!_ “Anna, listen to me. I was wrong. I should never have left, and not for the reasons I initially told you. It was—.”

     “Mom! Mom!” Came a screaming voice from the front of the house. The cry was followed by the scrabble of clumsy feet over the front deck. A young boy, short and heavy, ran through the front door and past the parlor entrance, not even glancing at Lore or Anna. They both turned in time to see him tear through the den and into the kitchen, all the while yelling. “Mom! Trevor crashed his bike down the High hill!”

     Anna stood up and headed for the den. Lore followed her with an exasperated sigh and stood in the entrance way to the kitchen. Was he ever going to get a moment to say more than five words to her! The boy was all animation, his pudgy cheeks flushed from exertion. He continued as Amy stood before him, her hand on her hip in a no-nonsense manner.

     “He went down the hill and crashed!” Gene continued, “And…and I was gonna help him, but this guy! This guy came out of nowhere and grabbed him by the back of his shirt!”

     “What’s this now?” Eugene said with some concern. He was standing near the sink, cleaning lasagna bits from a rag.

     Lore frowned with no little irritation, and not just because the little human had interrupted something important. He could just imagine how this was going to go, what tall tale the kid was going to spun. He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

     “Yeah!” The boy continued, “He was tall and _really_ pale! I mean, like paper! And…um…old! You know, like thirty or something.”

     Lore snorted, “I’m forty-three, actually.”

     Gene spun around and his jaw fell. The boy’s eyes widened until Lore thought they might come dislodged from his skull.

     Lore smiled, “Hello, again.”

     “It’s him!” Gene cried. He darted back and took a sharp left out of the kitchen.

     “Gene!” Amy shouted as she tried her damnedest to waddle after him, “Would you relax and get over here? Gene!”

     Lore grinned. Old indeed! And the child had lied about helping too. He had made no move whatsoever to help the other child when he fell. So much for good deeds! Although, in honesty, he wasn’t sure how much of a good deed it had really been. He had just wanted to know where Anna’s house was located.

     Everyone was staring at him. Again.

     “I asked a child for directions to this location.” He said quickly.

     “And…that was Trevor?” Katherine asked. She had a nervous smile on, as if she was not sure if there was a problem here.

     “He didn’t tell me his name.” Lore replied calmly, his voice a practice in a blandness, “He told me he had an older sibling named Logan.”

     “Oh, yeah, that’s Trevor all right!” Louise burst in, her little features suddenly scrunched up into a scowl. “Logan _friggin’_ Mills’ little brother!”

     Lore was instantly relieved. So they did know him. Good. There would be no misconceptions or ridiculous overblown stories. Just to solidify the general understanding, he continued. “The boy knew where this house was because he witnessed his older brother releasing a lie bird into one of the upstairs windows.”

     The color in Louise’s face rose to something pink, followed by something red. “I knew it! That was him! Damnit, I told you!”

     “Watch your mouth, Louise!” Katherine shouted.

     “That Mills kid put a bird upstairs? When was this?” Eugene said, joining the fray. Suddenly, the whole lot of them, Paul included, sank into a loud discussion about window locks and noises in the middle of the night and ‘who the hell left the window open anyway?’ All the while the dog was busily licking the remains of red sauce from the spaces between the floor tiles. Lore made a discreet backwards pace into the den. The general line of subject focus in this family was…erratic.

     “This is a mess.” Anna muttered to herself. She lifted her hand to the side of her head again, making Lore frown. He wanted to talk to her, he wanted to be alone with her to explain things, and all of this he _knew_ she deserved, but at the same time he could not help a growing sense of frustration. She was going out of her way to stay mad at him, to avoid him in every kind of meaningful way. Why? Why was she _trying_ to give up?

     He crossed his arms petulantly and looked back at the room full of loud, chattering people. He had tried being apologetic. He had tried being gentle and slow, but where had it gotten him? Nowhere. Watching Anna as she studiously avoided his eyes, something she had once said to him came to his mind. She had once told him that had he been kind and civil in his early days aboard the _Enterprise_ he probably never would have been allowed out of his quarters because no one would have believed it. Yes. No one would _believe_ in a mild mannered, dull-as-dirt Lore. Suddenly, he regretted the few little forced niceties he had engaged in thus far, the forced calm. He regretted being anything other than himself. After all, wasn’t that the person Anna had fallen in love with?  

     He removed his suit jacket and draped it over the wingback chair nearby before he walked back toward the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. He spoke loud enough for all to hear, “Logan Mills has a crush on Louise.”  

     The conversation slowed and sputtered for a few second before dying completely. Everyone stared at him, a few even tilting their heads in confusion. Only Louise looked utterly outraged.

     “What? Are you nuts?” Louise belted.

     Lore smiled, “That’s the second time you’ve asked me that, and no. I’m not.”

     “Lore, what are you doing?” Anna whispered harshly as she rushed up behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders. He loved the sensation, but couldn’t indulge at the moment. He wasn’t finished yet.

     “Logan Mills does _not_ have a crush on me!” Louise shouted. Her raven hair was bouncing around animatedly, “That’s—that’s gross!”

     Lore shrugged, “I’m merely repeating what I was told. Very specifically, the boy said, ‘My older brother Logan has had a crush on Louise Hall since he was, like, in the ninth grade a million years ago.’” Lore laughed, “Although, I suppose he could have been lying.”

     Little Angie snickered loudly as she tried to climb the side of the kitchen island, “Aunt Louise has a boyfriend! Kissy, kissy boyfriend!”

     “Oh, shut up!” Louise hissed, “Bug your Aunt Annie! That’s _her_ boyfriend!”  

     Anna’s fingers clawed into Lore’s shoulders in a kind of spasm. He turned just far enough to see her petrified face. He grinned and said, “I would hate to have to call your sister a liar. Do I have to?”

     Anna’s jaw clenched and she shot him a look that was downright murderous. She whispered, “This isn’t funny, Lore.”

     “You’re absolutely right.” He whispered back with a mischievous smile, “This is _deathly_ serious. I don’t want to live without you, Anna. I don’t say that as some kind of macabre threat. As I just told your sister, I’m not ‘nuts.’ I’ll live, but I’ll be miserable, and I don’t want to be miserable, Anna. I won’t let anything get in my way. So, let’s hope your family can see in me a little of what you do. Or did. Because I’m not going to show them anything else.”

     He took her limp, stunned hand from his shoulder and kissed it. Then, he lowered it to her side and very deliberately turned back toward the kitchen.

     “So, tell me, Mrs. Hall,” Lore began with a smirk, “Why, exactly, do you disapprove of replicated food?”

     Anna stumbled back into the den and collapsed into the wingback chair, very near to passing out.

 

 

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    


	40. Chapter 40

 

**_“You’re going down!”_ **

     _What is he doing? Dear God,_ what _is he doing!_

     Anna stood helpless in the doorway as she watched her three younger sisters—yes, she was the oldest—setting places at the dining room table. Amy was shooting Louise teasing little grins as she harassed her about ‘the Mills kid’, while Beth observed stoically. Despite the object of her distraction being in the next room, Anna could see the little crease between Beth’s eyes, the crease that always meant strong emotions were building up behind that placid face. She wondered what the outburst would be this time. One could never tell with Beth.

     “You like him too. Just admit it.” Amy teased as she tried to lay a plate across the table. Her seven months worth of pregnancy, however, would not allow it, and she walked around to place it.

     Louise scrunched up her face, “You people are sick! Some stupid kid who’s tortured me for years likes me, so I must automatically like him? Whatever. Believe what you want. I _hate_ Logan Mills!”

     At this, Beth looked up sharply and her chest heaved a little. To the unknowing bystander, it might almost look like the beginnings of some kind of asthma attack, but Anna knew better. She stepped forward and said, quietly, “Louise. You want to bring it down a few notches?”

     “What? What are you talking about?” Louise followed her sister’s gaze to Beth and immediately looked sheepish, “Oh. Right. Sorry, Beth.”

     Beth shook her head slowly, “You can’t control it.”

     “Still, I wasn’t even trying.” Louise continued, “I’m sorry—.”

     “It’s nothing.” Beth cut her off quickly and disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve more spoons. Anna followed her, since she really should be in the kitchen as well. Very few people understood her sister Beth, and how could they? As strange as the Hall family was, Beth was by far the strangest element.

     “It is _not_ the same!” Katherine declared just as Anna came around through the back entrance of the kitchen. Her mother was standing at the kitchen island, transferring biscuits from an over pan to a cloth lined basket. She was glaring at Lore—glaring!—yet there was an element of friendly banter in her eyes. Anna watched in amazement as her mother continued, “Replicated food is so _sterile,_ so…removed.”

     Lore frowned and tilted his head like a confused dog, “Sterile? Of course, it is sterile. What benefit would there be to replicating food borne pathogens?”

     Katherine scoffed, “Now, that is not what I meant. I mean sterile as in…well…cold. There’s no love in a replicated meal, no labor.”

     If Lore had looked confused before, he was downright baffled now. Had it not been for her intense rollercoaster of emotions, Anna might have smiled at it. Her mother had been railing against replicated food her entire life, and her arguments against it were not exactly logical. She could just imagine how Lore would respond to talk of ‘love’ in food. Once again, the refrain entered her mind.

     _What is he_ doing?

     Lore picked up one of the scalding hot biscuits and turned it over several times, as if he were examining it very closely. He smirked and said, “Mmm…I don’t _see_ any love. Maybe it’s inside.” He tore the biscuit open.

     “Oh, how cute.” Katherine deadpanned, putting her hands on her hips, “Annie, honey, you’ve found yourself a real smart-aleck here.”

     Lore bowed playfully and shoved half of the biscuit into his mouth.

     Anna reeled back slightly. This wasn’t happened. That’s right. She had fallen asleep and this was some bizarre dream. Any moment Jasmine was going to shake her like a rattle and tell her she was late for her shift.

     “Oh! Mom, look! He’s eating!” Angie yelled over a mouthful of pie crust. Anna pressed her palms over her eyes. Paul had been the one to mistakenly reveal the fact that Lore was an android, a fact that now appeared to have Angie enthralled. Apparently her innate shyness around strangers didn’t apply to, as she put it in her little voice, ‘robots.’

     “Hush!” Eugene boomed from his place near the sink, “You’re being rude, Angie.”

     Anna looked from person to person, just as she had in the dining room. At that moment she would have given anything for Beth’s empathic abilities, for she could not decide if their generally good reactions to Lore were real or just a show they were putting on for her benefit. She knew her family. They said what they meant, often, but they were also not above mass deception as a means of making someone happy.

     “Sorry.” Angie muttered eventually. The little girl turned her attention right back to Lore. She tugged on his sleeve, “Hey. Hey!”

     “What?” Lore said irritably. That was another thing that had Anna almost smiling. From what she could tell, Lore either didn’t know how or didn’t care to treat children any differently than adults. He looked at them the same way, spoke to them in the same tone, and—somewhat troubling—answered their questions with the same bluntness. It wasn’t the way he treated B-4, she noticed, but that was probably because he knew B-4.  

     Angie grinned, “Do you like seafood?”

     Eugene scowled, “Angie….”

     Lore shrugged, “I don’t know.”

     “Well… _see food!”_ Angie said, just before opening her mouth to reveal a tongue full of half chewed pie crust.

     “Oh, for God’s sake….” Katherine muttered. “Amy! Get in here and control your daughter!”

     Lore leaned down to eye level with the little girl, his expression a look of faux menace. In a slow, icy tone he said, “That. Is. Hilarious.”

     Angie collapsed into a fit of giggles.

     “Encouraging her. Nice.” Katherine sighed, “Annie, you want to take these to the table?” She held out the basket.

     Anna took it in the same numb fashion in which she had done everything for the past hour. She just couldn’t manage to wrap her mind around what was going on. Lore was...he was…being himself, and yet it was working. No one was angry. No one was screaming and demanding that he leave, and Lore was not sneering and cutting people off as he sometimes did. For a moment, Anna considered that _he_ was the one still putting on a show, but on second thought she just didn’t think that was the case. Lore, as yet, had no reason to be defensive towards her family. He did not know them, had no reason to automatically think they disliked him and, thus far, not one of them had said a word against him.

     Well, except Gene….

     “You told on me!” The angry nine-year-old said for the fourth time as he stood in the kitchen doorway. Gene had his arms folded across his chest, but his little attempt at menace was ruined by the fact that his lower lip was sticking out in a childish frown.

     “Gene, enough!” Amy called from the other room, “Wash your hands for dinner!”

     Gene stomped toward the sink, his eyes focused angrily on Lore, “Squealer!”

     Anna smiled, finally. Lore had revealed to her parents the entire episode he witnessed on the High Street hill, including Gene’s cowardly abandonment of Trevor Mills. The boy had quickly gotten over his fear and replaced it adolescent outrage. Lore was a squealer, the ultimate stigma in the annals of kiddom.

     Lore ate the other half of the biscuit and grinned, “Next time, don’t get caught.”

     “We’re done with the place settings.” Anna said as she took a step toward the dining room.

     “Okay. We’re ready.” Katherine said as she lifted a large serving bowl of beef stroganoff and headed toward the other room. Eugene followed with a large salad bowl. “Annie, pumpkin, you want to pick out some wine?”

     Anna nodded dumbly and crossed toward the wine chiller under the counter. She knelt down and began looking over the old labels, but her mind wasn’t on it.

     “It there some kind of art to this? _Pumpkin?”_ Lore asked as he knelt down next to her.

     “Watch it.” Anna laughed despite herself, “Choosing wine? Some people would say yes, but I’m not sure. Honestly, it all tastes the same to me.”

     “In that case….” Lore reached into the chiller and picked up a bottle from the second shelf without even looking at it. “Here.”

     She took the bottle and immediately a broad smile crossed her lips. _What luck…._ “I’m not sure we can have this one. It’s my graduation wine.”

     “Graduation wine?” He asked.

     “Starfleet Academy has its own wine label.” Seeing his bemused look, she rolled her eyes in agreement. “It’s some kind of holdover from the Academy’s early days. I don’t know. But every cadet gets a bottle on their graduation day.”

     “I see.” Lore took the bottle and looked over the Starfleet emblem on the peeling label, “And this is…special for some reason? You don’t want to drink it.”

     Before she could stop herself, the old story came to her mind and she was blurting it out, “My Mom’s been saving it for my wedding, of all things. How ridiculous—.” She stopped talking when she saw the concealed laughter behind Lore’s eyes. She frowned, “Shut up.”

     “I didn’t say anything.” He replied innocently. Ha! Innocently….

     “Come on. They’re waiting.” Anna muttered as she went to stand up. Before she could, Lore took the bottle from her hands and replaced it on the shelf. He waited a few seconds, then took a different one and handed it to her. She looked at the new bottle curiously. She didn’t care if they drank the graduation bottle. She really didn’t.

     Lore shrugged, “You’re saving it. I think you should.”

     _Wh—what?_ Even her thoughts were stuttering.

     He stood, “Come on. _They’re waiting._ ”

     Anna followed him into the dining room as her mind whirled. What did he mean by that? Why on Earth would be think she needed to save that stupid bottle of wine? Her heartbeat suddenly quickened and she became very warm. As she entered the dining room, Beth immediately focused on her, her eyes wide.

     _Keep your mouth shut, Beth. You always do._

     Katherine and Eugene took their usual seats at either end of the table, while Paul and Amy sat across from each other at Katherine’s end. Gene, Angie, and Beth filled in one side, leaving the other side for Lore and Anna. Louise made a place at the corner near her father, and little Felix resided in a high chair at the corner between Amy and Katherine. He was already dutifully shredding a handful of snow peas. As Anna approached the table, she hesitated. Which seat to take? It was all based on who she would rather have sitting next to Lore; Paul or her father? She immediately took the seat next to her father, leaving the middle one open.

     Lore took the middle seat and was instantly met with a stern faceoff from Gene. The boy scowled at Lore, scrunching up his nose. Lore scowled right back.

     _Oh, great…._ Anna sighed as she sank down into the chair. It was just dinner. One meal. She could do this. Hell, everyone else seemed to be doing just fine. _What am I panicking over?_

Katherine began doling out the beefy noodles as she had done for every meal throughout Anna’s entire life, as if nothing at all were strange about the situation. She watched her father wrestle with the corkscrew as Angie blew bubbles into her glass of milk. She glanced at Lore, who shot her a quick, secret smile. The warmth that had started in her chest spread to her limbs. Without a thought, she smiled back.

     “That’s better than the tension.” Beth muttered. It was so low that most everyone ignored her, but Anna looked up. Beth was staring at her plate and taking long, slow breaths. Her brow was slightly wrinkled.

     Anna caught her younger sister’s eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. She mouthed the word _sorry._

     Beth shrugged and began eating, stoic and forced as ever. It was her way. It had to be.

     “Are you adopted too?” Lore asked suddenly.

    Anna looked up and saw that Lore had directed this question to Amy. She was Anna’s oldest sibling, just one year younger than herself, and the only one who had ever seen Lore prior to today. Of course, at the time Amy hadn’t known that.

     “Yes.” Amy replied immediately. “Me and Anna were adopted at the same time, though you wouldn’t know it. Lucky runt looks fifteen years younger than me.” At this, Amy directed a teasing grin in Anna’s direction.

     After nearly forty years of this back and forth, Anna had her usual response down pat. She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a truly ridiculous show of vanity and said, “I know.”

     Lore’s jaw fell a bit, no doubt because he had never seen Anna exhibit anything but the most naïve modesty, especially where her looks were concerned. But, it was all a show, something Anna and Amy had been doing for so long that it was ingrained now. Anna still believed Amy to be the stunner of the family, with her long legs and platinum blonde hair. Older looking or not, Anna still maintained that her sister was the real beauty.

     Lore immediately turned his attention to Louise, who was trying to elbow out some table space from Angie. “And you?” Lore asked, “You’re adopted as well?”

     A look of surprise was on Anna’s face, though she was hardly aware of it. Lore appeared to be on a sudden fact finding mission, and it only made her overall warm feeling intensify. He wanted to know about her family.

     “Yeah.” Louise said, reaching for the butter, “We’re all adopted, goof-ball. I mean, look at those ears.” At this, she pointed her butter knife in Beth’s direction.

     Beth’s hand shook nervously and she dropped her fork on her plate. Just as quickly, she retrieved it and continued eating. A statue with an appetite.

     “Nice, Louise. Real nice.” Anna muttered. It seemed that going off to college for a year had caused her youngest sister to forget some things. Namely, how careful they had to be around Beth. Not that it helped much. Humans couldn’t be expected to control their emotions.

     “Goof ball?” Lore smirked. He leaned forward, redirecting his attention to Beth, “You’re a Vulcan?”

     Beth halted her fork in midair. She nodded.

     “But, not a full Vulcan.” Lore continued.

     Eugene cleared his throat, “Bethany is half Vulcan and half Betazoid. Isn’t that right?”

     Beth nodded again.

     Anna noticed the look of surprise on Lore’s face right away, and was actually a little relieved. He had reacted the same way everyone did when they learned Beth’s parentage. Of course, Lore’s ability to match most people ended there.

     He laughed and said, “I believe some people would term that ‘fire and ice.’”

     Louise and Amy laughed, and even Beth’s lips curled up a bit. Lore’s sentiment was nothing if not appropriate. Beth was indeed a troubled mix of contradictions. She could sense the emotions of everyone around her at all times, yet the intense nature of her own Vulcan emotions forced her to maintain a practiced calm. With the constant bombardment of emotions from others, though, her life was a nonstop exercise in control. The exercise failed often.

     “Yeah, Aunt Beth is an ompath.” Gene said through a mouth full of food.

     “Empath, honey.” Amy corrected.

     “Yeah.” He continued, not missing a beat, “We learned about those in school, like when we learned about Ferengis! Their—guess what?—their ladies walk around naked all the time! They don’t wear clothes!”

     The adults issued a general eye roll while Angie giggled. Anna looked at Lore and saw a thoughtful smirk on his face. _Oh, crap…._

“The women don’t wear clothes?” Lore mused, “I’m not sure I see the problem.”

     Louise sputtered over her drink while everyone else went quiet. Lore looked around for a few awkward moments, then said, “That was a joke.”

     “Oh, Jeeze!” Louise cracked up laughing and—Heaven help her—Anna smiled too.

     “Louise, what time is the game?” Beth asked suddenly. Her voice was a little shaky, and Anna could always spot when Beth was trying to redirect the conversation. It always worked with Louise.

     “Two-thirty.” Louise said immediately, “And this time—oh! _This time!_ —we are going to beat. Their. Asses.”

     Katherine didn’t even bother to reprimand her daughter this time. She just sighed and went on eating.

     “This time.” Anna said, mockingly. She couldn’t help it. “You sound like this is some ongoing feud. This is only your second year doing the inter-class competition.”

     “And we lost!” Louise reminded her, “But it’s not just the game. _Logan_ and his fellow losers have been taking this war off the field all year. You know they painted Sam Morris’ front door pink with green polka dots? They filled Kelly’s garden shed with river stones! Straight up to the ceiling!”

     Everyone started laughing despite Louise’s obvious outrage over these occurrences. Only Lore was not laughed.

     “What ‘game’?” He asked.

     Anna smiled. She remembered her class competition games. She leaned close to him, “High school. Every two class levels are paired up for ‘competition’.  It’s an old Wallace tradition. Louise is the graduating class of seventy-eight, and they’re in competition with the class of seventy-seven.”

     “Competition for what?”

     “Bragging rights!” Louise declared, clenching her fists in the air. “And this year I am gonna shove that trophy in Logan Mills’ face so hard he’ll taste plastic!”

     A hiccupping laugh escaped Beth lips suddenly, causing her to choke on her food a bit. She immediately pressed her napkin over her mouth and shot Louise a look.

    _Ah._ Anna smiled. Beth often did this when someone was lying.

    Louise ignored it. Purposely, “Anyway, we’re playing our second alumni game this afternoon. That’s why we’re having diner so early.”

     Lore nodded, his interest obviously satisfied, and turned back to the plate of food in front of him. Anna watched as he regarded the meal with some kind of suspicion, before finally lifting the fork and taking a bite. A broad smile made its way to her face. She could remember, vividly, the first time he had eaten, and the grotesque expression he had made upon sampling bitter strawberries. She was almost hoping for a repeat now, but his expression was neutral. The stroganoff was not bad, but it wasn’t amazing.

     “Mom! He’s doing it again!” Angie cried, pointed a finger directly at Lore.

     Anna cringed.

     “Young lady, you want to eat your dinner in your room?” Paul snapped as he swatted the girl’s hand back across the table.

     Lore gave Angie a bemused look, “I’ve eaten many times. It isn’t impressive.”

     “Oh, yeah?” Gene snorted, “Where does it go?”

     Anna gasped. Lore’s eyes widened and his jaw fell open a bit. Amazingly, he appeared to have been stunned into speechlessness.

     “That is it, mister!” Paul barked, “You’re staying here while the rest of us go to the game.”

     “No!” The boy cried. A raucous back and forth between pissed-off parent and outraged child commenced until it was silenced by Lore’s building laughter. Anna looked at him, stunned. She had expected him to be angry over such a…well…personal question, but that did not appear to be the case. He even went so far as to turn his face away, like he was trying to hide his amusement.

     “See? See?” Gene continued, “He’s laughing! He’s not even mad. I want to go to the game!”

     Unable to hold back, Anna leaned close to Lore and whispered, “I can’t believe you’re laughing.”

     He took her hand on her lap and squeezed it. Still chuckling, he said, “I asked a child that exact question a few days after I was activated. I hadn’t yet learned anything about anatomy.”

     _Ha!_ She closed her eyes, but it was no use. She started laughing. And it felt good; really, really good.

     “You’re disgusting, Gene.” Louise said, rolling her eyes. “Just remember when we get to the game to stay away from Trevor. I don’t trust Logan not to use him to try and figure out my pitch signals. He’s not above cheating and—Holy shit!”

     A thunderous crash and splat brought the room into chaos as some kind of projectile came flying through the open window. It slammed into the center of the dining room table, sending stroganoff and bread rolls flying. The adults were on their feet in an instant as another volley of three purple water balloons sailed through the lace curtains, striking the table, the far wall, and the back of Eugene’s head.

     “Class of Seventy-Seven rules!” Came a cry from the front yard. It was followed by several hooting laughs and the stomp of feet going down the mountainside staircase. Anna watched nervously as Lore darted to the open window and stuck his face out, his expression a mask of cold alertness.

     Louise pressed in beside him, “I know that was you, Mills! You’re going down!”

     “This is ridiculous, Louise!” Anna fumed. She looked down at the mess of beef sauce and butter going down the front of her shirt. The inter-class competition hadn’t been anything like this in her day. They certainly never would have attacked the enemy’s home. There was too much of a risk in involving the parents!

     “This isn’t my fault!” Louise insisted, “Logan’s been escalating things all year!”

     “Yeah, okay.” Anna muttered. She could just imagine what heinous pranks Louise and her fellow classmates had been pulling on the Seventy-Seven alumnae. She could still remember the morning she had woken up with green hair. And Louise had only been eight years old when she did that!

     “Now, this has gone too far.” Eugene said. He was wiping water from the back of his neck with a napkin, “I’m going to have a word with Logan’s father.”

     “No!” Louise cried, “I’ll look like a whiner!”

     “Funny. That sounds like what you’re doing right now.” Katherine said angrily, “Honestly, Louise. You’re nineteen years old. The Mills kid is twenty!”

     “Is this competition violent?” Lore asked, his tone completely serious.

     “No.” Anna said quickly. She rushed over to him and put her hands on his shoulders, “It’s just some childish crap that goes on every fall.”

     Lore stood up, looking a little confused, “I see.”

     “It is _not_ childish crap.” Louise objected.

     Anna couldn’t even dignify that with a response. She just shot Louise a sarcastic glare. So much for the quiet, head-under-her-blanket vacation Anna had been hoping for. For, that was exactly what she had intended when she ran away from the _Enterprise_. She had planned, if one could call it that, to sulk in her old bedroom for ten days and try to ignore the fact that her life wasn’t perfect and things weren’t going exactly her way. Good grief…. And she had the nerve to think Louise was immature! The thought was depressing.

     “I have to go upstairs.” Beth announced suddenly. Her tone was cold and level, so Vulcan, and yet hurried. She disappeared into the parlor and up the stairs.

     “All right, you two.” Amy said as she pushed back her chair, “Get upstairs and change out of those clothes. Ma? Dinner?”

     Katherine sighed heavily, “I guess we can just get something at the game.”

     “Yeah! Hotdogs!” Gene exclaimed.

     “Go change.” Amy said again. The boy ran off, his little sister fast on his heels.

     Anna watched with a growing unease as one-by-one they each left the room. It was her father who finally turned around before leaving and gave her a meaningful look, “Pumpkin, you, eh…you tell us what you plan to do for the game. Whatever you want.”

     _Whatever I want?_ “Okay. Thanks, Dad.” Anna muttered. He disappeared into the kitchen and Anna could almost feel Lore’s eyes on the back of her neck. She turned to face him near the window. He was looking down at her with a mildly worried expression, covered with a soft smile.

     “I, um….” She trailed off immediately. She wasn’t sure what to do.

     “I suppose my invitation has run out.” He said wistfully. His expression fell and his eyes shifted. Oh, God, she knew that look! That broken, depressed look. He probably wasn’t even aware that he did it, but each time it tore her up a little bit. She hated that look on him.

     She put her hand on his arm, and tried to block out all the memories that feeling conjured up. “Hey. You, um…you want to go to the game with us?”

     He was still for a few seconds, his expression not changing. She wondering if he was trying to read her motives, trying to figure out what her invitation meant. If so, she couldn’t blame him. Her behavior had been anything but consistent lately. Finally, he stepped forward and put both hands on her waist. The sudden shock of happy warmth made her gasp.

     “Sure.” He said, smiling. He leaned in close and whispered, “I can tolerate a little blood sport.”

     Anna gulped and fought the urge to lean forward and kiss him. _Why am I fighting, again?_ She cleared her throat, “No blood sport. Just baseball.”

     He seemed to wait for something. Then, when it didn’t happen, he let her go and sighed regretfully. “Are you sure? Won’t there be many people at this…game?”

     The sting of self-loathing was not something Anna was very familiar with, but she felt it now. She could hear his unspoken questions as clear day; _Aren’t you afraid people will see me? Aren’t you ashamed of me?_

_Oh, God, Lore. I’m sorry…._

     “It doesn’t matter.” She said quickly. Forcing a smile, she added, “If anyone has a problem with it, I’ll sick my little sister on them. As you’ve already noticed, she’s terrifying.”

     Lore smiled a little, but she couldn’t read it. He nodded.

     “I guess I should clean a little of this up before we all go.” She said, eyeing the disaster of the dining room table. She picked up the large casserole dish of ruined stroganoff and headed toward the kitchen. Lore followed.      

     “I have a question.” He said.

     She set the container down in the deep sink and turned toward him, “Yes?”

     “What is baseball?”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you hadn't noticed yet, the previous chapter and this one contain my not-so-subtle shoutout to Bob's Burgers. Belchers! From the womb to the Tomb! =)

**_“After all, I am obsessed.”_ **

 

      There was no girl on the face of the Earth as cute as Louise Hall. Logan Mills didn’t _think_ it. It wasn’t his _opinion_. It was a fact.

      “You think you’re gonna get away with this, don’t you?” Louise continued, her little finger only a few inches from Logan’s nose. “Well, you can forget it! You’re a cheater!”

     “Cheater!” He scoffed. “How am I cheating?”

     “You know exactly how!” Louise’s gorgeous—yes, gorgeous—amber-brown eyes narrowed to slits, “You can’t have outside players. Alumni only!”

     “Uh-uh.” He said, grinning, “The rules state that I can have up to three fillers if people don’t show. And, wouldn’t you know? I have three no-shows.”

      “Who?” She sneered, “Mike? Lenny? I bet I saw your entire team at the Moose Pub last night.”

      “And a couple of guys had a little too much to drink. They begged off.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t look at her as he spoke. It was one of the reasons he liked to avoid these one on one conversations with Louise. It was too difficult to lie to her.

     “Yeah! And your replacements just happen to be friggin’ Vulcans!” Louise took a step back and clenched her little fists at her sides. She was really pissed. He could tell. She had spent most of the summer hand picking her team and whipping them into shape for today, but he couldn’t let that affect him. Oh, no. He had a game to win, and if that meant stretching the _spirit_ of the rules a bit, he was willing to do that. Plus, it had the added benefit of getting Louise angry, and she was so damn cute when she was angry.

     “What can I say?” He said with a broad smile, his honey blonde hair falling over his eyes slightly, “A few of my academy pals expressed an interest in ‘human competitive rituals’, or however they said it, and I told them they could play if the need arose.”

      “And I just bet you made sure the ‘need arose’!” Louise kicked a ball of orange ballfield clay at Logan’s feet, “You…you…cheater!”

     _God, she’s beautiful…._ He leaned down a good five inches to get eye level with her and said, “Shut your butt, coconut. If you can’t win, than you can’t win. I’ll gladly accept a forfeit right now, if that’s what you want. Then, instead of freezing our tails off on the field, we can all toast them over beer and fries at the Silver Pit.”

     “You can take your beer and fries and shove ‘em!” Louise cried, “Oh! You’re gonna be sorry. You just wait! I’m gonna…I’ll—.”

     “You’ll what?” He said, laughing. “You got some trick up that skinny sleeve?”

     Louise’s eyes widened, only to shrink down into slits. Scary, narrow slits.  For all his six foot two inches, Logan shuddered. He knew that look. That was the same look he had seen on Louise’s face just before he opened his locker in the tenth grade and a paint bomb exploded in his face. It was the same look she had the day everyone was staring at him for Senior photos, and he had realized his teeth and mouth were completely green. He had never figured out how she did it, but he knew….

     “You’ve got nothing!” He cried suddenly.

     “Oh!” She shouted in that evil, vibrato way that she did, “This year, Logan. This year, you are going down. You are going to eat crow! _Eat! It!”_

She spun around on her tiny little feet, flipping her gorgeous raven hair at him, and stomped away across the field. Logan watched her hips move side to side as she spun around the gate and toward the street. Oh, yes. One of these days—years from now and when he had gotten tired of tormenting her—Louise Hall was going to be his wife.

     He didn’t _think_ it. It wasn’t his _opinion._ It was a fact.

 

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

     Everyone left Anna’s house in the same way Lore had arrived; down the steps, onto the street, and then down the short dirt trail leading to the street below. Once on Second Street, everyone turned north to walk the seven short blocks to the school and the adjoining ball field.

     Lore knew all of this because he had memorized the town map.

     He looked over at Anna and smiled helplessly, the same way he had when she came back down the stairs after changing out of her stroganoff smudged clothes. She now wore a dark blue winter dress with a wide skirt, ending just past the knee. He had never seen her in a dress before, and the effect was…distracting.

     “You look beautiful.” He whispered.

     Anna looked at her heeled brown boots clicking on the old slate sidewalk, but that did nothing to hide the blush in her cheeks. And it wasn’t the cold doing it either. Lore smiled. He loved that blush. He had loved it from the first time he saw it, though he had been too stupid to know it at the time.

     “Thank you.” She said. She was trying to suppress a smile, and Lore knew it. He looked ahead to the group of people walking in front of them. They proceeded up the wide, tree lined sidewalks two abreast; Anna’s parents, Amy and Paul, and Beth walking by herself with her hands clasped behind her back. Gene and Angie rode their bikes in circles up ahead. All of this left Lore and Anna trailing behind, which was exactly what he wanted.

     “What did you tell Commander LaForge when you left?” Anna asked, “I mean, I’m sure he asks where you were going.”

     “Ah. That.” Lore made a face “LaForge refused to tell me where you were, but he let it slip by mistake.”

     “Did he?” She said with a suspicious smile.

     “Yes, but don’t be too hard on him. Your roommate told me anyway.”

     “Jasmine….” Anna muttered. Suddenly, her eyes widened, “What else did she tell you?”

     _Everything…._ “She told me how upset you were before you left. She said you thought your career was over.”

     Anna shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat and pressed her lips together, “I’m sorry I just ran off. That’s what I did, you know. Ran off.”

     “I know.” He said immediately. There was no judgment in his voice, for hadn’t he done the same thing so many times? He was an expert at suddenly fleeing difficult situations. Speaking of difficult situations, he was not sure if he should continue with this line of conversations, but he supposed it was better to get it over with now. It wasn’t as if it would remain a secret.

      “Your roommate also told me about what led up to your interview on Utopia Planetia.” He continued. "Owen set it up.”

      Anna only nodded. “Yeah. He, eh, thought I wanted to leave the _Enterprise.”_

 _No._ He _wanted you to leave the Enterprise._ Lore shook his head, “Anna, the XO at Utopia Planetia lost his niece in one of the rogue Borg attacks. I think Owen knew that. I think he sent you there knowing you would be mistreated.”

     Anna shook her head, her face scrunched up in a frown, “I…I don’t believe that. You can’t know that’s what hap—.”

     “I know. Just because I don’t have proof doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” He looked away to hide the nasty grimace that flickered over his face. He wasn’t going to get angry about this again. Instead, he thought of his response, and a satisfied smile replaced his anger, “But, no need to worry. I got Owen back.”

     Her heels skidded on the slate stones, “What did you do?”

     He shrugged as he took her arm in his and pulled her back into a walk, “Nothing. I’m sure it’s already been forgotten.” 

     “I’m sure.” She said sarcastically, “Lore, please tell me you didn’t punch him or something. I know you don’t like him, but he isn’t John Larson—.”

     “I did not punch him.” He assured her, “I merely got him out of my way.”

     “Out of your way?” She said, a little sternly.

     He smiled, “Yes. I see no reason to be coy about this. Which, by the way, I haven’t been. He likes you. He wants you. And I just can’t have that.”

     As much as he knew his words were probably a step too far, he would not take them back. He had decided that there was no room for anything but honesty, and why not be honest about something that Anna already understood anyway? She knew how he despised Owen, how jealous he was of him. Any statement against that would be an outright lie. Still, he waited….

     Anna was smiling.

     “You’re smiling.” He said.

     “Yeah.” She breathed. She lifted her head and closed her eyes against the afternoon sun, “I guess I’m not used to be possessed over. It’s kind of nice.”

     A burst of laughter escaped him, causing Amy and Paul to look back with amused grins. He leaned in to her and whispered, “Possessed? Is that a kinder version of ‘obsessed’?”

     “Maybe.”

     “That’s acceptable.” He shrugged, “After all, I am _obsessed._ ”

     She gave him another light smile as they kept walking. It was all he could do to contain his satisfied delight. If he had been sure of her forgiveness before, he was downright certain of it now. It would only take a little more time for her to articulate it, to say it outright, and he could accept that. Humans were vain, prideful creatures—just like him, by the way—and he, more than anyone, knew the suffocating nature of admitting a change of mind. The only thing more difficult that admitting one was wrong was admitting a heavy change of heart. They amounted to much the same thing.

      They continued walking in silence, giving Lore an opportunity to take in the surroundings. The street on which they walked was lined with houses and leaf covered lawns. Most of the structures were quite old, but the occasional modern building appeared here and there, well camouflaged with wall vines and artistic gardening. It wasn’t the homes, however, that caught Lore’s attention, but rather the people coming out of them. This ‘game’ they were to attend was apparently a wide attraction, and other people had joined them on the sidewalks, both on their side and across the street.

     It did not take long for their notice to fall on him.

     Beth stumbled in her steps up ahead and looked back over her shoulder, as if Lore or Anna had said something. Her face was tense for a flash, but she immediately recovered her placidity and continued walking.

     “She knows, doesn’t she?” Lore muttered, “That people are staring at me?”

     Anna nodded, “Probably. I won’t ask her what she senses, though. She doesn’t like it and she almost never volunteers.”

     They continued walking, and despite the stares and occasional gasps coming from the sparse groups around them, Lore was at least pleased that there had been no kind of outburst. Yet. He could only hope that these people were already acclimated to the idea of his presence. After all, the town was incredibly small and knowledge of his and Anna’s relationship must be common knowledge among them.

     “Louise is coming.” Beth announced with a sigh. Before Anna could ask her what she meant, she saw Louise huffing around the corner of River Street, where they had been about to turn anyway. Her grey and blue baseball jersey was open at the front, the words ‘Seventy’ and ‘Eight’ flapping on either side of her.

     “Yes! There you are!” Louise burst as she made a B line towards Anna. Her baseball cleats skidded on the slate stones. “Anna! I need to borrow him!”

     _What?_

     “What?” Anna said, bewildered.

     Louise pressed her hand to her side and caught her breath. Clearly she had been running full out for some distance, “I…need…a filler.”

     Anna shook her head violently, “Are you out of your mind? No way.”

     “A filler?” Lore asked, but neither woman seemed to hear him.

     “Anna, please! That miserable sack of bird poo Logan is cheating! Cheating! He replaced—.”

     “Keep your voice down!” Anna hissed.

     Louise grumbled and stepped onto the lawn next to them as an elderly couple walked by. She waited, then, “Anna, _please._ Logan replaced three of his players with Vulcans! Classmates from his friggin’ academy. It’s not fair! They’re faster and have better coordination, and he did it on purpose. He has _ringers_!”

     Lore’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. Faster? Better coordination? _Oh, no. No, no…._

“Louise, no.” Anna said, shaking her head, “That’s crazy. If you want to match players, take Beth. She’s a Vulcan.”

     Beth, who had stopped along with them, remained passive.

     Louise groaned, “Yeah, _a_ Vulcan, as in one. I’m up against three here. He can make up for three, right?” Louise looked at Lore. “Right?”

     Could he ‘make up’ for three Vulcans? Lore's vanity bristled at the very question. Before he thought better of it, he said, “I doubt I couldn’t.”

     “Great!” Louise beamed. Without waiting another second, she grabbed Lore’s arm and pulled. She was jerked back by her own momentum when Lore did not budge. Not one inch. She gawked at him, “Whoa! Now I _know_ I need you to fill in.”

     Lore looked at the young woman’s eager, almost desperate expression, and felt a twinge of sympathy. Or, more likely, empathy. If there was one thing he hated, it was losing. 

     “What would I have to do?” He asked cautiously.

     Anna’s jaw twitched, “You’re…you’re not considering this, are you?”

     He was about to say ‘why not?’, when the answer to that question became all too apparent to him. Anna’s eyes were wide with apprehension, and it made part of him sink. Participating in this game, which was clearly a public endeavor, would only make his presence more noticeable, and thereby only increase Anna’s exposure to the potentially negative reactions of others. His heart sank a little further, but why? Was this not the very reason he had left, to spare Anna the ill will of strangers? What kind of a hypocrite would it make him to be upset by that fact now?

     Beth sucked in a quick breath, drawing their attention. For a moment, Lore worried that the empathic woman was reacting to him, but her eyes fell on a small group of woman who were coming up the sidewalk. They stepped down into the street to get by, despite having more than enough room on the sidewalk. Their furtive glances at Lore and Anna were more than enough of an explanation.

     _Don’t be an idiot, Lore._ He shook his head, “It’s probably not a good idea.”

     Louise’s shoulders sank in overblown dejection, “Fine. Beth, I know it’s hard for you to deal with the crowds, but you mind—.”

     “No.” Anna said suddenly. Lore looked at her, and her eyes were firmly fixed on the backs of the women who had just passed them. The soft flesh at the edges of her eyes twitched, flexing from wide to narrow, as if she were fighting some internal reaction. She brought her focus back, sharply, “Why not? I don’t see a problem, unless you don’t want to play?”

     He stepped very close to her and said, “Anna, you don’t have to—.”

     “Like hell I don’t.” She said fiercely. She accented that with a smile and a very purposeful look into his eyes, “Do you want to help Louise with her cheating?”

     “I’m not cheating! Logan is!” Louise sniffed.

     He stepped in front of Anna, blocking her from Louise and Beth’s views. “Are you sure?” He whispered. He was hopeful. Damned if selfishness had not prevailed, but he was _hopeful!_

     There was a moment’s hesitation, then Anna stretched up and kissed him on the cheek close to his ear. She said, “Absolutely.”

     He remained perfectly still, _so_ still, just letting that gloriously warm feeling sink in. He had not understood it the first time it happened, and he did not understand it any better now, but did it matter? Not to him. Oblivious, he reached for her.

     “Jeeze, love birds!” Louise cried, “I’ve got a game to win here!”

     Lore leveled an ominous glare at Louise, but the young woman seemed utterly immune to such signs of warning. Instead, she clenched her fists and wiggled in a bizarre little victory dance.

     “Oh, yeeesss! Logan is going to rue the day he ever heard the name Hall! Let’s go.” Once again she grabbed Lore’s arm and moved to pull him along. Lore shot Anna a farewell grimace and followed Louise at a standard pace.

     “Come on!” She insisted.

     “I’m not running.” He declared, freeing his arm from her, “I’ve already agreed to make myself a spectacle. There’s no need to increase it.”

     She grumbled and pulled a little data pad from her pocket, checking the time. “Fine. Let’s go this way so we can come around the field off Fourth Street without being seen.”

     Lore smirked as they made the opposite sidewalk and continued along River Street, away from Anna and the others. “Is there a point to that?” He asked, “My participation is going to be public, right?”

     “Oh, yeah.” She said in a satisfied tone, “But not until the moment is _just right._ I don’t want Logan to see a thing coming, so we have to plan. Are you any good at pretending?”

     Lore blinked.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

      

     It had once occurred to Lore, several months after living aboard the _Enterprise_ , that his experience interacting with humans had always been remarkably narrow. The Omicron Theta colonists had, for the most part, been scientists and professionals trained for deep space travel. After that, almost all of the humans he had ever met or spoken to had been Starfleet officers. At the time, this realization had been a passing thought, for he had not entertained the idea that a human civilian was any different than a human Starfleet officer.

     He had been wrong.

     Stepping onto the sidewalk now, he felt attention fix on him in a manner he had never experienced aboard the _Enterprise_ or even aboard the dry dock station. Officers glanced at him, maybe faltered a bit upon first seeing him, but then they quickly recovered their professionalism and moved on. These people seemed incapable of doing it.

     “Excuse me.” Lore said quietly to a man who was blocking the entrance through the chain length fence.

     The man, busy laughing and trying to find something in a crate at his feet, half turned, “Oh, sorry, pal. Just let me move this—.” He followed that up with a sharp gasp.

     _Move!_ Lore forced a smile, but it was amused. He might seek to control his temper today, but he wasn’t about to play—how did LaForge put it?—Mr. Congeniality.

     The man gawked and made one backward step, but made no move to shift the crate blocking the path. Lore sighed and rolled his eyes, “No need to trouble yourself. I can get by.” He stepped over the crate and, making certain not to look back, continued along the path and to the main walkway between the spectator stands and the ‘dugout’, as Louise had termed it. She had dragged him off to explain their so-called plan, which had been entirely unnecessary. She could have explained everything in Anna’s presence, but somehow be thought that Louise relished the theatrical nature of what she was doing. It had, however, left him in the uncomfortable situation of walking by himself to the ball field to find Anna and the others. No doubt his being alone only made his presence more startling to people.

     “Ah, there he is. Anna.” Eugene called over his shoulder. Lore spotted the man and immediately headed toward the end of the stands. Anna and her family had managed to take the first and second row seats at the far end against the railing. Anna stood and he saw her release a very noticeable breath.

     “Were you worried about me?” He whispered as he joined her in the second row. He sat against the railing, having no desire to be closer to the other people who were now trying not to stare at him. Hell. At least they were _trying._

     Anna shook her head, “I was just wondering what kind of nonsense Louise has in store for you.”

     “I’m the ‘secret weapon’.”

      “You sound awfully proud of that.”

     He shrugged, “And your sister has a real penchant for theatrics, judging by the script she just went through.”

     “Script?” Anna’s eyes widened, “You’re kidding.”

     He shook his head. “The only thing missing was the fact that it wasn’t written down.”

     Anna laughed again and wrapped her coat more tightly around her. The wind was picking up, “So…shouldn’t you be in the dugout?”

     “Louise wants a delayed entrance. Her words.” He rolled his eyes.

     “Okay.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Did you, um…have any problems getting over here by yourself?”

     Her tone of voice was more tense than she let on, but that was more than understandable. “No.” He said with a bitter laugh, “But I think I am going to get more attention than this game.”

     At that, Anna made a sly look over her shoulder, disguising it as her attempt to pull her hair out of the wind. At least a dozen people were staring right at her. Her shoulders tensed.

     “I don’t have to do this.” He whispered quickly, “In fact, we can leave any time. I have a site to site transporter.”

     “No.” She said sternly, “It’s their problem, not mine.”

     “Gosh! Aren’t you cold?” Came a childish voice. Lore looked over the railing just in time to see Gene and his friend Trevor maneuvering their bikes into the space in front of the stands. Trevor looked up at Lore and grinned in a satisfied kind of way. “You found the Halls!”

     “Hello.” Lore sighed, “Again.”

     “So? Aren’t you cold, or what?” Trevor asked again. The boy’s volume and tone demonstrated that he found nothing at all wrong with this question.

     Lore looked down at his fair weather clothes and smirked, “Actually, it’s terribly hot. I’m sweating to death.”

     He did not expect the small burst of laughter that came from the other spectators within earshot. He glanced around, and some of them had shifted their eyes with guilty embarrassment. Oddly enough, the laughter had not sounded…unkind?

     Trevor made a raspberry with his lips, “Hot? Jeeze! You must be from someplace like Alaska or something. Is your planet really cold?”

     _Ah, that’s right._ Lore had left the boy in the dark. He shrugged his shoulders.

     “Planet?” Gene snorted, rolling his bike backward, “He’s not from a planet. He’s an android, stupid!”      

     “Boys.” Eugene chastised, “Go park your bikes outside. There’s no room in here.”

     Gene grumbled and started backing up, but Trevor was too shocked. He gave Lore a look of pure adolescent outrage, “You told me you were a Lore!”

     “No.” Lore said, “I told you I was ‘called’ Lore. That’s my name.”

     Anna shot him an amused, questioning look, no doubt wondering about the exchange Lore had had with the boy. Gene started laughing in the way only a victor can.

     “You’re such an idiot!” Gene said, pushing Trevor.

     “Whatever!” Trevor spat back as he too finally began to maneuver his bike back out of the path. “I met him first, anyway. Loser!”

     “So? He had dinner at _my house._ ”

     This childish back and forth was stopped only when Eugene stood and looked over the railing at the two boys, “Speaking of _my house_ , you tell your older brother that I know it was him this afternoon. He’ll know what I’m talking about. If this stuff doesn’t come to a stop, and I mean now, I’m going to have a talk with your father.”

     Trevor’s neck shrank into his shoulders and he nodded mutely. The fact that he didn’t look confused only demonstrated that he knew all about his older brother’s antics at the Hall house. “Okay, Mr. Hall.” Trevor muttered.

    Lore was beginning to think children were the most amusing element of human society. 

     “Captains to the field!” Boomed a voice through a loudspeaker. People all around began to quickly take their seats and direct their attention to the field.

     A tall man wearing some kind of protective body pad over his front stood near the center of the field. Lore watched as Louise and a blonde man of similar age walked out to a raised mound of dirt at the center of the field. The padded man spoke to them privately, whatever he said causing both Louise and the other man to shoot nasty looks at one another, then he raised his hand and made some kind of signal. Immediately, people from the far ‘dugout’ ran out onto the field, spreading into particular positions.

     Lore had no idea what was going on.

     “One of the Vulcans is pitching.” Anna muttered, “I bet Louise isn’t happy about that.”

     Lore scanned the field and saw two Vulcan men, one standing on the top of the dirt mound, and the other standing a few yards away in the field. He wasn’t sure which was ‘pitching’, but he assumed it was the one on the mound.

     “Play ball!” The large man shouted as he hunkered down just behind the fence. Almost immediately, the Vulcan on the mound stood sideways and pressed his hand into a large leather glove. He raised his knee, and upon bringing it down pulled a white ball from the glove and threw it at the two players closest to the fence. For a fraction of a second, Lore suspected this was indeed a blood sport, but one of the targeted players swung a thick wooden baton, striking the ball on the edge and causing it to sail directly upward. The other player, the one wearing even more protective padding than the first one, stood, waited, and caught the ball as it descended.

     There were mixed shouts of joy and distain from the crowd.

     “Oh. Too bad.” Anna said, clapping her hands politely.

     “You didn’t want him to catch the ball?” Lore asked.

     “No. He’s on the Seventy-Seven team.” Anna clarified, although it clarified nothing to him. He merely nodded and continued watching. Anna had vaguely described baseball back at the house, but that was because he had not shown very much interest. He knew it was a confrontational team sport featuring a ball and a wooden bat and ‘three strikes’, but that was it. There was no reference to baseball in any of the Omicron-Theta colonists' personal logs or letters. 

      Frankly, he wasn’t particularly interested now, despite the fact that he would be participating at any moment.

      “If Louise wins, I’m sitting up all night on the porch with the garden hose.” Eugene sighed heavily, directing the comment to his wife, “I don’t trust that Mills kid any further than I could throw him.”

      Katherine laughed and leaned into her husband’s side. The game continued, and Lore watched with growing fascination as the ball was thrown twice more for two different ‘hitters’, and each was dismissed when the padded man yelled “You’re out!”

     Louise stood before her dugout and kicked angrily at the ground. The blond man from across the field smiled and laughed with the utmost satisfaction. The people in the field ran back to the opposing dugout and Louise’s people took their places. This exchange took longer, but eventually came to an end when the last hitter, a Vulcan, struck the ball and sent it over the fence and into the river beyond. His fellow players ran in, stomping on the ‘plate’ as they did. Louise’s furry only seemed to increase.

     “You’re sister has a short temper.” Lore commented.

     "Pot calling the kettle..."

     “I know what that means.” He replied. They were sitting so close, and Anna’s coat was so bulky, that he had no trouble taking her hand without anyone noticing. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and merely stared off into a field, a very satisfied smile on his face.

     Anna flushed, but continued to watch the field. One of Louise’s players, running in from the infield, tripped suddenly. It appeared that he had turned his ankle and stepped on the side of his foot, and he went down with a startled look of agony. Louise ran out immediately and helped pick him up, her face a picture of nurturing concern.

     “She is a good actress too.” Lore said.

     “What do you mean?” Anna asked.

      “This is her plan.”

     Anna looked out again and, sure enough, she saw the same suppressed grin on the ‘injured’ player’s face as Lore did. The man hobbled, very convincingly, back toward the dugout, as Louise made a large T with her hands.

     “Time!” The Ref called. The blonde man, whom Lore now knew to be the infamous Logan Mills, stalked out onto the field with narrow, suspicious eyes. Louise joined him with a little bounce in her step.

     “You’re going to listen, aren’t you?” Anna said with a smile.

     He nodded and listened.

     “I need to bring in a filler.” Louise announced. Her voice was thick with artificial regret, “Chris twisted his ankle. Can’t keep playing.”

     “Oh, yeah!” Logan spat, “I want to see a tricorder readout. I bet he’s fine.”

     “Sure.” Louise replied, “Let’s see the doctor’s notes for Mike and Lenny and Sarah. Hungover, my butt!”

     “Tone it down, you two.” The Ref grumbled, “Hall, you got an alum to fill in?”

     “Nope. Wouldn’t you know? Not a single Seventy-Eight available.” Louise grinned at Logan.

     “Guess you forfeit then, huh?” Logan’s teeth were clenched and he was looking at her sideways.

     “Actually,” Louise drew out the word, “I _was_ worried about not having anyone on standby, so I asked a family friend if he would fill in. You know, if the ‘need arose.’”

     Lore narrowed his eyes. 

     “What?” Anna said, “What did she say?”

     “Nothing.” 

     “Oh, yeah? Who?” Logan challenged, “And what position is he playing?”

     “Third base. I’ll get him.” Louise grinned broadly.

     “Who!” Logan demanded, but the Ref had heard all he needed to hear. He was already walking away from the mound, waving his hand to indicate the continuation of play.

     Louise ignored Logan and jogged over to the fence. Lore sighed heavily. This was also part of her plan. He leaned close to Anna, “I think you’ll see another example of her acting abilities right now.”

     Louise reached the fence in front of the stands, breathless, “Lore! Hey! You won’t _believe_ this, but Mark sprained his ankle. I need you to stand in!”

     Just as Louise had requested, Lore stood with a show of irritation, as if participating in this game were the worst kind of imposition. The stands erupted into a cacophony of noise. Loud boos and calls of ‘not fair’ emanated from the far stands, while those nearest him were full of self satisfied laughter and applause.

     Lore was shocked, and the surprised look on Anna’s face showed that she felt the same. He had expected anything but a good reception. In fact, he had expected outraged silence, if not unanimous objection.

     Eugene and Katherine turned around and gave him a reassuring smile. Katherine said, “Never underestimate the power of baseball. They want to win.”

     _Clearly._ He stepped down from the stands and quickly swung around the post next to the field. 

     “Yes!” Louise said from the other end of the dugout. She rushed toward him, “Okay, what's your shoe size? I think I’ve got a few extra pairs of cleats around here.”

     “I don’t need them.” He assured her, “I’m not going to lose my footing.”

     “Fine. Glenn, you’re up!” Louise shouted. A man at the far end grabbed a bat and headed out to the plate. Louise pressed her face to the chain length fence, “Hopefully, Glenn can get on base, then Kate, and then you can bring them in.”

     “Bring them in?” Lore repeated.

     “Yeah.” Louise’s eyes were focused on the game.

     “Um….” A heavy voice from the back of the dugout rang around, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.”

     Louise turned around, “Hey, we didn’t start this. Logan had every chance to play fair. He’s only got himself to blame.”

     The man crossed his arms over his chest and sat back. “I wasn’t talking about that,” He grumbled. Lore glanced at him and immediately met an unfriendly glare.

     _And it begins…._

     Louise spun around like an angry little top “What? We have some kind of problem, Jason? Cuz’ I can get my sister Beth to step in if you don’t want to play.”

     Jason worked his jaw angrily and shook his head. “I didn’t say that. Just thought you could have picked someone…else. That’s all.”

     Lore shrugged and looked back at the field. He had a problem when people directly their dislike of him towards Anna, but he couldn’t give a shit about people who disliked him alone. Louise, apparently, did not feel the same way.

     “Is Jason the only one? Huh? We have a bigger problem here?” Louise demanded, her little face pinched in a scowl.

     “Strike three! You’re out!” The Ref boomed. Glenn came skulking back into the dugout. He angrily shoved his bat into the stand near the exit.

     “You can’t hit a damn thing off that guy!” Glenn seethed, “I can barely see the ball!”

     Louise ignored him and continued to glare at her team.  Considering that no more than three hours ago she had brandished a knife at him and called him nuts, her defense was rather heartening...if a tad disconcerting.

     Jason stood, “All I’m saying is—.”

     “All you’re saying is you don’t like him. Well, I don’t give a crap who you like or don’t like. If it weren’t for him my big sister would be some red smudge on a shuttle bay wall. Yeah, that’s right! You heard me!”

     Lore gave her a sharp look. “Don’t justify me to people.”

     “Why not?” She shot back, “I think a lot of people around here could do with a little more information, if you ask me.”

     “Seventy-Eight! What’s the hold up?” The Ref called, “You got twenty seconds to get your batter out here!”

     “Kate, go!” Louise instructed. A girl with blonde pixie hair struggled with her helmet and ran out to the plate. Louise turned her attention back to the group, “So? Where are we?”

     Everyone muttered their agreement, and even a few were more enthusiastic about it. Jason sighed and retook his place on the bench.

     “I just want to win!” Glenn cried.

     The thunderclap of the bat striking the ball drew their attention. It sailed through center field as Kate ran full out towards the first base. She made it, but continued no further.

     “Okay, you’re up! We’ve got Kate on base!” Louise said, bouncing. She grabbed a bat from the stack, looked at it, then took a heavier bat instead. “Come on.”

     Lore removed his suit jacket and hung it on a hook before following her out into the bright, windy afternoon. The spectators demonstrated their favor or disapproval loudly. Lore glanced over the dugout and made eye contact with Anna. She gave him a tense smile, he responded with an amused roll of his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was doing this nonsense.

    “Okay,” Louise began, shoving the bat into his hands, “I need Kate to make it home, and she’s slower than a drunk turtle. So just make sure you get a good hit into the outfield. Hell, get a homerun if you can.”

     Lore looked down at the bat, holding it awkwardly from the fat end, and said, “Is there a particular area to which you want me to direct the ball? Does one space garner more points than another?”

     “Points?” Louise frowned and looked over her shoulder. The Ref was getting impatient, “No, just make sure you—Oh, God! You don’t know _jack_ about baseball, do you!?”

     Her voice was loud enough for all to hear, and the stands erupted into laughter. The opposing side, especially, devolved into raucous hoots. Lore lowered the bat and held it the way he had seen the other players do.

     “I don’t need much information, just tell me what to do.” He said irritably.

     Louise groaned, removed her cap, then replaced it after running her hands through her hair, “Okay. He’s gonna throw the ball at you, you hit the ball with the bat and then you run to the first base—.”

     “I’m not running.” He said dismissively. He wanted to help Louise but he was had no interest in making a fool of himself. He could run—that was a given—but Lore was of the strong opinion that most people look ridiculous while running.

     “What? You have to run, unless you get a homerun, and even then you really should—.”

     “Home run? I’ll just do that then. What is a homerun?”

     “We’re waiting, Hall!” Logan cried from the far dugout. He had his nose pressed to the chain-length and was glaring.

     “Damnit.” Louise muttered, “Just…just hit the ball as hard as you can. And,” Here, she leaned in and whispered, “do me a favor? Ham it up a bit.”

     “Ham it up?”

     “Yeah. Show off, you know. I wanna rub Logan’s face in the smelly crud of defeat!”

     The youngest Hall certainly knew how to turn a phrase. He headed toward the home plate.

     “Oh, wait! Here!” Louise extended a protective helmet towards him.

     Lore laughed and waived his hand at the thing. The spectators found it just as amusing, and a few people shouted, “Like he needs it!”

      He continued toward the plate and, remembered Louise’s request, tossed the bat into the air and flipped it end over  end a few times as the narrow point landed in his hand. He did this with a practiced show of boredom

     “Good grief!” Katherine cried from the stands. Lore glanced over and the woman was laughing, giving Anna an amused look. Anna shook her head and smiled.

     _Enough. Get this over with._ He took his place at the side of the plate and waited. The Vulcan pitcher, not at all discomposed by Lore’s presence, acknowledged a signal from the catcher and winded up. He released the ball with substantially more power than he had wielded against the other players, but it didn’t matter. Lore saw the ball coming as if it were in slow motion, seeing every backward spin as it moved. He drew back and did precisely what Louise had asked him to do.

     He hit the ball as hard as he could.

     The wooden bat split up the length and shattered in a spray of yellow wood. The ball fared little better as the red stitched busted under the force and a line of its stringy guts burst out, creating a tracer trail as the remains of the ball sailed clumsily back toward the pitcher. The Vulcan caught it, easily, and lifted it for view.

     The people in the stands rose to their feet in a chaos of excited shouts. Lore looked down at the bat handle in his hand and frowned, “Shit.”

     “No! That’s great! That’s a homerun!” Louise cried from the dugout. “Yeah! Hey, Logan! Can I borrow a bat? I seem to be down one. Ha!”

     Lore shrugged and head back toward the dugout just as Kate cleared the home plate with a happy stomp. As he passed, he saw Anna standing in the stands. She had her hands cupped over her mouth, no doubt hiding one hell of a grin. Her eyes spoke to it. He rolled his eyes playfully before descending into the dugout. This might actually wind up being fun.

     Louise explained enough of the game to allow him to play his third base position proficiently, since the task mostly required being able to catch the ball. He would have been happy to continue batting in his previous manner, but Louise informed him, with some amusement, that bats were at a premium and he should just shoot for getting the ball over the far fence rather than destroying it. He did just that three more times before the game concluded. In the final inning, Jason was called out on the catch and Glenn simply couldn’t make it home before the ball reached the catcher. Louise’s team lost by one point.

     Despite performing his tasks perfectly in every way, Lore was only one player, and baseball was not a sport designed for single player dominance.

     “I don’t believe this….” Louise groaned into her hands as the Ref called the game in a loud voice.

     The rest of her team sulked out of the dugout and formed a line. Louise took up the end position as the two teams passed each other, slapping hands. It was not a professional display. Louise’s team was visibly miserably, while Logan’s players looked like shaken up bottles of soda, waiting to burst. Lore remained in the dugout, which no one seemed to mind, and watched as Louise reached Logan. She took his hand in a shake and Lore saw Logan’s satisfied grin falter with a twinge of pain. No doubt the woman was digging her finger nails into his flesh.

     _Good. This is over. We can leave now._

     Lore exited the dugout and was immediately met with the press of people exiting the stands. He stood back and waited in the entrance, which wasn’t the best place to stand since everyone was to take their turn in staring at him. He frowned.

     “Oh, don’t worry.” Said a middle aged woman towing a little kid along with her, “You did your best.”

    “Eh…thank you.”

     He waited for the rest of them to pass, being momentarily stunned when an occasional person smiled at him or gave him some kind of sympathetic shrug. The majority, however, either gave him furtive looks or made a point to ignore him completely. That was fine by him.

     Anna shot him a broad smile as she stepped down from the benches. It had gotten considerably colder, and her shoulders were hunched up around her ears.

     “Now, that was entertaining.” Eugene said with a laugh. He gave Lore a nod as he and Katherine followed the crowd away from the stands.

     Without any hesitation he swooped in and took Anna’s arm in his, pulling her close. “We can leave now.”

     “Yeah.” She said, shivering her agreement. They walked a little distance behind Katherine and Eugene. They crossed to begin the trek up Third Street. In the open area just ahead, the members of Logan’s team were celebrating as they loaded their gear into two land vehicles and made loud suggestions about their dinner plans. Logan was parading a large gold and white trophy over his head, but his eyes seemed fixed away from his fellows. Lore followed the man’s gaze and saw Louise still near the dugout, also loading her gear into another land vehicle. She looked dejected.

     Logan’s exuberance faltered.

     “Is that the prize?” Lore asked Anna, nodding toward the trophy, “ _That_ is what all of this was about?”

     Anna hummed a bit and shook her head, “Not really. That’s just the proof.”

     “Don’t be a sore loser.” Logan called suddenly. He had regained—or forced himself to regain—his cocky satisfaction. He looked at Lore and grinned, “I guess you weren’t much help.”

     Lore disagreed, but who cared? 

     Logan continued, “I guess the class of Seventy-Eight just doesn’t have what it takes!” His fellows laughed and he held the trophy up a little higher.

    Anna groaned, “Louise is going to be a train wreck for days. That girl can’t handle losing. She never could.”  

    Louise, who could hear all of this, looked up. She didn’t look angry. She looked beaten.

     “Logan.”

     Anna stopped, bringing Lore to a halt. It was Beth who had suddenly stepped forward from the shadows, her hands still clasped behind her despite the cold. Lore watched curiously, for Katherine and Eugene had also turned around as if they were expected something bad to happen. Anna too had a look of concern. 

     Beth stepped across the grass and stopped in front of Logan, looking up at him.

     “Hey, Beth! You should have replaced another player.” Logan said loudly, “That would have made an android _and_ a Vulcan. She might actually have tied with us!”

     Beth took another step forward, so close that Logan had to take a step back. He frowned, wondering what the woman was about staring up at him like that with those black, half-Betazoid eyes.

     “What’s your problem?” Logan demanded.

     For the first time since meeting her, Lore saw Beth smile. “You love Louise.”

     Logan’s jaw dropped like it had become unhinged. His teammates hooted their disagreement. But Beth wasn't finished. She tapped her temple with one finger. “I _know._ You love Louise. You have for years.”

     Logan took another step back as Beth seemed to be stalking him. “That—that’s bull crap! I don’t care what you think you know, _half_ Betazoid! You’re lying. It's not like you can hear people's thoughts.”

     “Sorry.” Beth shook her head. “Vulcans do not lie.”

     At this, even Lore could not resist devolving into laughter. He could only imagine Troi doing something like this, suddenly wielding her empathic abilities like some kind of brutal social weapon.

     Logan sputtered and shook his head, but he could not make a coherent rebuttal. Beth had him. She was an empath, so she knew his mind, _and_ she was a Vulcan, for whom honesty was a known trait.

     “Oh, my God, I _knew it_!” One of Logan’s teammates shouted, to much accompanying laughter.   

     “Shut up!” Logan burst suddenly. His eyes were across the street. Louise was standing stiff as a board, her arms full of leather mitts. Her face was frozen in a look of shock.

     “Good evening, Logan.” Beth finished. She turned and continued her walk along the sidewalk, once again a calm surface over a raging riptide.

     _This is too funny._ Lore watched at Logan suddenly shoved the trophy into someone else’s waiting hands and ran across the street towards Louise. As he approached, she dropped the mitts and took up a bat.

     “Oh shit.” Anna muttered.

     “Is that true!” Louise shouted, raising the bat.

     “Hey! Stop!” Logan cried, “Listen to me!”

     “Listen? You chopped my hair off in the sixth grade!” She swung the bat, missing and striking the land vehicle.

     “I’m sorry!” Logan cried as he jumped back.

     “You let the air out of my bike tires every other day!” _Swing!_ “You told everyone in school I never wore dresses because I was trying to hide a tail!” _Swing!_

     “You turned my teeth green!” Logan shot back as he dove behind the vehicle.

     Lore nudged Anna, “Is someone going to intervene in this?”

     “I’m not. This is a long time coming."

     “Calm down! Let me talk to you!” Logan kept trying to dodge the bat and get close to her.

     “And all this time you—you—Argh!” Louise swung again.

     Anna pulled on Lore’s arm. “Come on. I have a feeling I’m not going to see Louise until much later.”

     "But this is entertaining.” Lore laughed. Anna gripped his hand, and his attention was easily drawn back to her. She was smiling up at him. “Okay.” They continued their walk back toward the mountain, with the sound of Louise and Logan’s shouts fading into the distance.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))

 

     It was completely dark now, the sun setting early in the October sky. Katherine and Eugene moved up the pitch black path with a flash-light, shining it back so that Amy and Paul could see their own steps. Lore kept Anna close and directed her. He did not need the light.

     “What are we going to do about Louise?” Katherine whispered to Eugene. The dark was so still and complete that even the faintest whisper carried to all.

     Eugene grumbled and shook his head, “Hell, I’ll just be sure to leave the front door open. If she doesn’t sneak in eventually, the Sheriff will bring her by after she kills the Mills kid. I’m sure it’s a misdemeanor.”

     Katherine chuckled and walked ahead as they reached the steps. Lore gripped Anna’s arm and held her back. Clearly he was not going to retire with the rest of the Halls, but he desperately did not want to leave. She turned and looked up at him. His tense expression told her everything.

     “Ma? I’ll be up in a bit, okay?” Anna said softly. The dark was making everyone very quiet.

     “Okay.” Katherine nodded, “Um…Lore, it was good to meet you. Really.”

     “Ditto.” Paul chimed in. Amy laughed and gave him a playful punch in the shoulder before they continued up the steps as well. Beth followed. Lore waited until everyone had cleared the steps and disappeared across the black lawn toward the house. He and Anna stood at the foot of the steps near a large tree that had pressed itself through the timber retention wall decades ago.

     “I don’t believe it.” He muttered.

     “Believe what?” Anna said.

     “I’m finally alone with you.” He put his hands on her waist and stepped close, pressing his forehead to hers. He could hear her heartbeat thump into an increased rhythm, and the sound was thrilling. Still, he couldn’t get ahead of himself, “I suppose we have a lot to talk about.”

     She sighed, “No. Not really.”

     _Oh?_ He drew back, “We don’t?”

     She shook her head, “Not much. I understand why you left, why you thought you had to leave. You were very clear.”

     “I was also very wrong.” He said, frowning. He could clearly see her face in the dark, but he knew she could not read his. “I thought it was for your own good, but I…I didn’t help. Instead, I just left you alone.”

     She nodded. He felt it against his forehead. “It was worse because I knew, I _knew,_ something was wrong. I tried to talk to Guinan about it, but she was so damn vague.” Here, her voice cracked a bit, “I couldn’t get over it because it felt so…wrong. It was like I knew you weren’t really gone, and I couldn’t square that with everything I was being told. Data was very thorough in making sure everyone believed you were dead.”

     He closed his eyes. That sting was regret was almost physical now, “I’m sorry.”

     “I know.” She said. He waited, not knowing what else to say or do. He just held her with the hopes that it would last longer than he feared. But, soon Anna stretched up and pressed her lips to his cheek. She whispered, “I’ve missed you so much. I love you, Lore.”

     He made some kind of relieved groan as he lowered his head onto her shoulder. Just the sound of those words was enough to drive away any all concerns he had in the world. Everything would be okay now. This was all that mattered. He smiled, laughed joyously, and kissed the side of her neck.

     “Then…you forgive me?” He whispered.

     She shook with silent laughter, “Oh, God. Of course, I forgive you, stupid.”

     He wrapped his arms around her tightly and continued to laugh, all of the anguish and worry he had felt dissipating with the sound. He was forgiven, and she loved him.

     “I love you.” He whispered, “I…I don’t want to leave, Anna. Please, come with me.”

     “Come with you? Where?” She pulled back to see his face, despite the dark.

     He shrugged, “Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. You have ten day, don’t you?” He was speaking quickly now, he was so excited, “I have my ship. We can go anywhere you want, within a five day journey.”

     Anna laughed happily and kissed him. She rubbed his cheeks, kissed him again, and drew back, “Nope. Your ship is impounded. Remember?”

     He rolled his eyes, “I suppose breaking that would not keep me in Picard’s good graces.”

     “Um…no.” She laughed. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. “Lore, just so there isn’t any more confusion, any more doubt. I love you. Only you. I’m…I’m sorry. I was so angry, and finding out you were alive all this time when I was—.” She broke off and calmed her breathing, “I told you I didn’t want to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

     Lore sighed. He would never cease to be amazed by Anna’s ability to place herself at fault. He shook his head, “You’re not supposed to be apologizing to me. I caused all of this.” He took her face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, “But it doesn’t matter now. Will you come with me? Even if my ship is…” He rolled his eyes, “impounded, we can still be alone there.”

     Anna narrowed her eyes playfully, “I see. And _why_ would you want to get me alone?”

     Lore could not blush, but his expression showed the same reaction. To answer the question, he leaned in and kissed her, this time letting it linger until she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and fell against him. She hummed against his lips.

     _Humans. Are. Wonderful._

Anna drew back. Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling. “I, um…I need to go tell my parents. I can’t just disappear on them.”

     Lore nodded and followed her quickly up the steps, his hand still in hers as they reached the top. He waited outside as Anna went into the softly lit house. She returned a few minutes later, smiling, with a bag over one shoulder.

     “We’re going directly to your ship?” She asked.

     “No. My security measures aren’t exactly humanoid friendly.” He laughed, “We’ll can go directly to the _Enterprise,_ then leave from there.”

     She nodded and stepped close to him, “I’m ready.”

     _So am I._ He reached into his pocket and pressed the small transmitter there. They both disappeared into a blur of green light.

     It was barely three minutes later that a chaos of sirens and lights illuminated the mountainside. Half a dozen land vehicles, followed by THD soldiers on foot flooded up the High Street hill and down the drive into the Halls’ dark, leaf strewn lawn. Eugene had been good on his word to leave the front door open, which left no hindrance when the THD soldiers flooded in, phasers raised. They wanted to know where Lore was, and they wanted to know _now._      

 

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

      

    

    


	42. Chapter 42

**XLII.**

_“What you’re doing is barbaric!”_

     Typically, a site to site transporter being used within the confines of the _Enterprise_ would set off an intruder alarm, but Lore had his ways of getting around that. The fact that LaForge had given him his own access code meant that he could look up the current transporter frequency whenever he wished, and set his own transporter to match. It was perhaps not what LaForge had intended when he gave him the code, but it was harmless enough.

     They materialized in the corridor a few yards from Anna’s door. She stepped back from him, still blushing from the Idaho cold—and other things—and dropped her bag from her shoulder.

     “I’m just going to drop this off and get a change of clothes.” She said quietly. Lore smiled at the pink hue of her cheeks. They’re relationship was already so close and there really was no need for bashfulness, but h they had been together for such a brief time before he left, and he had been gone so long. He could imagine that, for her perhaps, it was almost like all of this was new.

     He nodded, “I’ll go ahead. The security measures I put in place take time to deactivate.”

     She rolled her eyes a little, “You make that ship sound like a death trap.”

     “By design.” He smirked, “But not for you. The computer knows your voice.”

     “Really?”

     “Really. Actually…your voice _was_ the computer’s vocal interface for a time.” He saw her surprised smile and he shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say? I missed you. Although, hearing your voice inform me of energy fluctuations in the engines wasn’t quite enough.”

     She laughed again and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll just be a few minutes probably. Unless Jasmine is awake and she chains me to a chair to demand what I’ve been doing. She’s like that.”

     “Good luck, then.” He brushed some hair away from her face as a parting gesture and headed toward the turbo lift. His pace was a little quicker than usual, spurred on by happiness and excitement. It really was a shame that his ship was locked in a chain of legal nonsense for the time being. He would have loved to take Anna away to…say…the depths of a very thick and very impassable nebula, outside transporter range, communications range, and any other range that could possibly provide an interruption. The thought made him sigh as he stepped out of the lift onto the main deck and headed for the airlock corridor. 

     It was early evening by the station clock, and he was actually surprised at how few people he saw in the corridors. In fact, on his way to and through the airlock corridor, he did not encounter a single person. Early evening, when the day shifts had been released, was typically the most boisterous time aboard the _Enterprise_ and the station. He slowed and almost came to a stop as he considered going to B-4’s quarters, just to check on him and see if something had occurred to alter the shifts. But, he quickly dismissed it. Lore loved B-4 to death, but his older brother was clingy and tirelessly curious, two things that did not match his immediate plans.

     He would see B-4 tomorrow. Or, possibly the next day.

     He passed through the entrance to the station and out into the tall gallery of the promenade. Here, there were finally people moving about, although still not as many as there should be. The café appeared to be serving mostly breakfast to the tired night shift people who had not yet gone on, rather than the happy and raucous dinner crowd. He shrugged and turned to make his way to the far turbo lift when a young officer stopped dead in front of him.

     The man's face went bloodless as he stared at Lore. His frame trembled a bit and he took a step back. _How tiresome._   Lore clasped his hands behind his back and smiled.

     “Relax. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

     The man twitched, as if Lore’s words had brought him back to life. He darted past and back into the airlock corridor, the thump of his running steps only growing in speed.

     _What the hell?_  

     “Doctor!” Someone shouted. Lore turned his head sharply, just in time to see Beverly Crusher rushing up to him in a kind of panic. He turned toward her and made to approach, which caused her to halt a few yards from him. She stood back, keeping a distance, and raised her hands in front of her.

     “Lore, listen to me.” She said gently, her hands bobbing with the tempo of her words, “Just…turn yourself in now. Okay? If you don’t put up a fight, maybe—.”

     “What are you talking about?” He demanded. “Turn myself in for _what_?”

     “Oh, God, Lore….” Crusher shook her head and almost looked ill, “How could you? How could you do it?”

     “Do what!” He fumed. But, there was no time for Crusher to give a response. Sirens went off and the stomp of heavy boots filled the gallery. From the far corridor, a battalion of heavily armed security personnel, some Starfleet, some Terran Home Defense, flooded into the promenade like water from a broken dam.

     As quickly as they entered the room, a boiling rage filled Lore’s chest. Whatever this was, it was wrong. He had done nothing-- _nothing new, anyway--_ and he would be damned if they would take him for it. He turned and darted toward the far turbo lift, knowing that his speed would easily allow him to gain it before they were on him. But, it seemed, they were better prepared than he thought. He slammed into the yellow glow of a force field so hard that it sent him reeling back. He regained his feet and made a moved back toward the airlock corridor, his intention to move around them with enough speed to avoid their shots, but it was not to be. He slammed into another force field, it’s shimmering light glistening all around him in a  perfect box.

     _No!_ He reached into his pocket and removed his transmitter, but all hope had drained from him. They would have thought of that too. He pressed it. Nothing.

     “Release me now!” He raged, throwing his fist against the field. It sputtered violently, causing the guards to wince and raise their weapons with more purpose.

     “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” Came a deep, demanding voice. It was a voice that sent Lore’s rage escalating to a realm where he could hardly think. Bruce Maddox shouldered his way through the guards. He had a strange device in his hands, like a tricorder but not of any design Lore was familiar with.

     “What is this?” Lore demanded. He looked at Crusher, beseeching, but she only stood with her hand pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. What could it be? What did they think he had done!

     The THD captain stepped forward, his phaser rifle slung in front of him, “Doctor. Are you ready?”

     _Ready?_

     “Yes.” Maddox replied coolly, “He is susceptible to a high stun setting, but it’s unreliable and too risky, especially with this force field. I can use this to remotely access his tactile subsystems and reverse their usual tolerances. It should result in a shutdown in a few minutes.”

     “Stay away from me!” Lore stepped back, but he could only manage to increase his distance a few yards before his back hit the force field.

     “I don’t need the science lesson, Doctor.” The captain sneered, “I just need this prisoner subdued for transport. Can you do that or not?”

     Alarm bells screamed in Lore’s mind. It all may have sounded like meaningless technobabble to the security captain, but it made perfect sense to Lore. His tactile subsystems were what allowed him to enjoy food, to savor pleasant scents, to relish the soft warmth of Anna’s hands. Those wonderful experiences only went one way, thanks to the compassionate idealism of Dr. Soong. To reverse the tolerances meant…meant… _No. Please._

“Aaahhh!” Lore barely knew that the gut wrenching cry of pain filling the room had come from his lips. His knees buckled underneath him and he fell forward. There was no describing it. How could he? How could a flame describe what it felt like to be cold? He had no reference for the horror that surged through his limbs and seemed to gather at his core. He screamed again, despite trying to clench his teeth against the pain.

     “No! What are you doing!” Anna cried. She dropped a bag as she ran from the airlock corridor toward him.

     “Stop her!” The captain ordered. A guard stepped out and caught Anna around the middle just as she tried to run past. She screamed and fought against him, but to no avail.

     “What are you doing?” Anna cried again. He face was turning red with panic, and Lore could see tears already building up over her eyes.

     “Doctor.” The captain said impatiently, “I want this prisoner subdued. Now.”

     “Yes, yes.” Maddox replied, almost with disinterest. He raised his device again. Lore fell from his knees now and crumbled flat out onto the deck. His entire body contorted into a kind of fetal position as he screamed. He tried to control it. How he tried! But there was no controlling it. The screams were ripped from him. Rational thought fled, and all he wanted, all he could think about, was making the pain stop.

     “Stop it! You’re torturing him!” Anna screamed, “What is wrong with you! He hasn’t done anything!”

     “I’m afraid you’re wrong about that, _Lieutenant._ ” The captain sneered. “He is too much of a risk to arrest in the traditional manner. Doctor, get this over with.”

     More pain. More chaotic thoughts. He tried to look at everyone, but he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes from clenching shut. He wanted to look, though. He wanted to see Anna’s face before he died. Yes. He was sure that was what was about to happen. Pain like this could only mean death.

     “Captain, this is unnecessary!” Crusher shouted, “What you’re doing is barbaric!”

     “Please!” Anna was crying now. “Can’t you see you’re torturing him? This isn’t right!”

     Several of the guards shifted uneasily, casting Maddox angry looks. He made a dismissive wave of his hand. “His outward expressions of pain are just programmed responses designed to make him seem more human. Just like his expressions of pleasure, for example. He isn’t actually _feeling_ pain.”

     “Stop!” Lore cried, “Please!” He had never begged in his life, not once, but something inside of him had snapped. He no longer controlled his responses, his pride. He would do anything to make it stop.

     “He didn’t do anything!” Anna continued, furiously, “You tell me what he did!”

     The captain, obviously angered by Anna’s thrashing objections, stepped forward. He looked down at Lore very seriously and said, “Lore Soong, you are under arrest for the murder of Doctor Owen Warrick.”

     Finally, something broke through the pain. Lore widened his eyes to disked and looked up, fighting with all his might to at least get on his knees. He looked at Anna. Her thrashing had stopped. She stared with exhausted, bloodshot eyes.

     “No!” Lore cried, “I…I didn’t! I didn’t do it!”

     Anna began shaking her head furiously, “No. No, you’re wrong! He was with me on the surface!”

     The captain waved a dismissive hand at her, “Wrap this up, Doctor.”

     Lore turned his eyes to Maddox, almost ready to beg if he had to, but he should have known that there would be no begging with him. As the pain grew and grew to the point where Lore’s vision narrowed and his hearing ceased, the last thing he felt was abject terror, and the last thing he saw was Maddox’s face. It was not gloating or proud, as one might see on a man besting his enemy. All Lore saw was the exasperated satisfaction of a scientist who had finally found the specimen he'd been hunting for. 

    

     


	43. Chapter 43

**_“Don’t call him a thing!”_ **

Troi moved as quickly as she could without breaking into a full run. She had returned to the _Titan_ less than an hour ago after having the horrible news revealed to her by Beverly and Captain Picard. Someone had found Dr. Warrick dead, and the authorities were looking for Lore. Well, they had found him. That much she knew from Beverly’s breathless communiqué. What she did not know, what she refused to accept, was that they had proof against him. They couldn’t. The kind of darkness she had sensed in Lore so many years ago was not a part of him any longer.

     _He couldn’t have done this._

But, they had something. Beverly had not discussed it in her message, but her tone had been so hopeless, resigned, as if there were no question to her of Lore’s guilt. Troi wanted to believe that this entire mess was simply the result of Lore’s bad reputation. Of course suspicion would be directed immediately at him. That little episode in the café between Warrick and Lore had made its way through the gossip mill at least three times already, having been shaped and reshaped into something far more sinister and foreboding than it had actually been.

     But something else had happened, something that put a cold pit in the bottom of her stomach. Starfleet and Terran Home Defense did not engage in violent public apprehensions over something as trivial as rumor or innuendo, even for someone like Lore, which meant they had something real. They had evidence.  

     “Counselor.” Picard said immediately upon seeing her. He was waiting outside the entrance to station security, but the door was open. Just the look on his face spoke volumes to her. He looked the way Beverly had sounded: hopeless.

     “They arrested him?” She said, stopping short.

     Picard’s jaw clenched in a way she very rarely saw on him, “In a manner of speaking.” He said tightly, “Dr. Crusher tells me that they—they tortured him.”

     “What?” The word escaped her as a breath. “I don’t understand. How…?”

     “Some kind of remote device intended to subdue him through a pain response.” Picard shook his head and looked into the room, “I’m not sure it matters now, but I want some answers.”

     Troi followed Picard into the room and was immediately struck by a wall of intense, chaotic emotions. Rage, despair, and panic emanated from the far side of the room. Troi looked over to see Anna standing with Beverly near a large set of sesame doors. Anna was speaking animatedly to the captain of the guard, her voice cracking.

     “You don’t understand! He was with me on the surface. I don’t know exactly what time he arrived, but I know he was there already at noon, maybe a little before. And he was with me right up until we returned to the station at—oh, God!—around seventeen hundred hours!” She sucked in a shaky breath and wiped her hand over her face, “He didn’t do it!”

     Troi took a few deep breaths and tried to close her mind a bit. Anna’s despair was like a heavy fog, clouding her from being able to see anything else. She looked back at Picard, “What do we know? What do they have?”

     Picard eyes dropped, “The captain of the guard contacted me and the station manager only an hour or so ago. It isn’t good, Deanna.”

     “I want to see him!” Anna cried. “If he’s a prisoner, he had better be in there alone! Where’s Maddox!”

     “Lieutenant!” The guard captain boomed, “If you don’t get yourself under control, I’ll have you escorted out of here. No one sees the prisoner.”

     At this, Picard suddenly stepped forward, “Council can see the prisoner. Is that not still the rule of law, Captain? A right to council?”

     The guard captain grimaced as if he found the suggestion offensive, “Captain Picard, council will hardly be useful to someone who is unconscious, and if you think I’m going to risk reactivated that thing so that you can—.”

     “Don’t call him a thing!” Anna spat. She rushed forward and appeared to make a visible effort to calm herself, “Captain Picard, you…you don’t think he did this, right? You know he didn’t do this.”

     Troi closed her eyes against the wave of sympathy and guilt that emanated from Picard at that moment. He took a deep breath and said, “Lieutenant, the security captain showed the station manager and I something that is…irrefutable.”

     Anna flinched as if she had been smacked. She shook her head and looked at the floor.

     “Here he is.” The guard captain said suddenly. Through the door behind Picard entered the station manager, another officer whom Troi did not recognize, and the head of Terran Home Defense, General Cross. The guard captain pressed the panel behind them, closing the door.

     General Cross moved directly to a round imaging table on the other side of the room, which currently displayed a holographic image of the station. He pressed a control, removing the image.

     “Captain Picard,” General Cross said, resting his hands on the table edge, “Can I righty assume that you’ll be…huh… _representing_ Lore in this matter?”

     Troi could almost taste a sour flavor in her mouth at the man’s snide, accusatory tone. One did not even have to be an empath to see it. He eyed Picard with a look that shouted ‘I told you so’ louder than any words could.

     Picard stiffened, but he _did_ hesitate. Troi looked at him and could only imagine that the evidence he and the station manager had seen must be convincing. Still, Picard nodded firmly, “I believe _I_ can rightly assume that no one else will. Yes, I will serve as his representative.”

     “Don’t worry, Captain.” The General continued as he began running his fingers over the table’s keys, “It’s more than likely you won’t have to do anything in that capacity, considering.”

     “What does that mean?” Anna said, her voice trembling.

     The General ignored her. Instead, he focused his attention on the other officer who had just entered the room with him. “Commander? The station manager and I have already heard your testimony, but I would like to enter it into the official records at this time. Are you ready?”

     The man, sporting Lt. Commander insignia and the blue collar of a science officer, nodded somewhat anxiously. Troi could feel the man’s intense unease.

     “Testimony?” Picard asked, stepping forward, “Don’t you think that should be reserved for the trial?”

     Cross stared at Picard for a tense moment, “You’re right, Captain. Not being a lawyer, I get my terms confused. Commander Peck, would you like to give us your _statement_ right now? Just start from the beginning.”

     Peck nodded, licked his lips anxiously, and stepped closer to the table, “I, um…I was going down to storage in docking leg D to transfer out some tricorders that needed calibration, and when I got to the pass corridor, the hatch was sealed and the warning light was on. I took a look and it reported that the section of the corridor up ahead had been decompressed.” The man cleared his throat and looked a bit ill.

     “Computer,” Cross said, “Let the record show that Lore’s vessel is docked in docking leg D. Proceed, Commander.”

     He continued, “There weren’t any breach alarms, though, so I pressurized the section and opened the hatch. I made it to, eh, section 4, I think, and that’s when I found the doctor’s body. He was….the body was pretty badly disfigured from sudden decompression.”

     “Decompression? It was an accident, then!” Anna said. She looked from person to person, and only Troi knew how truly desperate she was to find agreement from someone. “You can’t blame Lore for that!”

     “Computer, stop recording!” Cross barked, “Lieutenant, you are excused.”

     Anna moved to object when Picard put a staying hand on her shoulder. He looked at the General, “I don’t think so, General. I hope you’re planning to take statements as to alibi and character, which Lt. Hall will no doubt be providing. She belongs here.”

     Cross frowned at Picard, almost as if he thought the man was stupid. Troi knew it was far worse. He said, “Captain, considering what my guard captain showed you less than an hour ago, I would think you wouldn’t be so—.”

     “I know what I saw, Sir.” Picard cut him off, “But I will insist on the formalities.”

     “Formalities?” The word dropped from Anna in barely a whisper.

     “Not another word, Lieutenant.” Cross warned, “Computer, resume recorder. You may continue, Commander.”

     Peck nodded, cleared his throat again, “That’s pretty much it. I found Dr. Warrick, though it was kind of difficult to tell who it was because his face….I didn’t see anyone else or anything else in the corridor. No weapons or anything like that, no blood, except for what was caused by the decompression. But, I’m not a doctor.”

     Cross nodded, “And when was this?”

     “About an hour and a half ago. The station should have a time record of when I pressurized the corridor. Um…actually, no. It wouldn’t. The main computer is still down.”

     Cross nodded several times, very slowly, “Exactly. Thank you, Commander. You can go, and if we have any further questions we’ll let you know.”

     Peck nodded quickly and seemed all too eager to get out of the room. He disappeared through the door, leaving Troi feeling even worse. The man was telling the truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth. No deception.

     Cross folded his big arms across his chest. “The main computer has been down for days, what with it being used to run _Enterprise_ systems for the repair. Everyone knows that. I’m sure Lore knew it too, which is why he _knew_ the computer would not be able to verify his location aboard the station one way or another. The personnel tracker in the main computer is usually the go to alibi source, but with it being down…he had his opportunity.”

     Anna pressed her lips together angrily, but whatever she was going to say was silenced by the threat of being ejected from the room. Troi frowned. Picard, the station manager, and General Cross appeared to know what she and Anna did not, and she could sense that it was killing Anna. She stepped forward.

     “General, can I assume that we can’t place an exact time of death on Dr. Warrick because of the physical decompression damage?”

     Cross looked at Crusher, who nodded. “That’s right.” Crusher sighed, “All of the environmentals had been deactivated too. The…corpse was frozen when my team arrived.”

     Cross gave a snort. “How very convenient. So he knows he can’t be tracked by the station computer, he knows that he can fudge an alibi time by decompressing the corridor and making it impossible to set a time of death.” At this point, he looked directly at Anna, “It would appear that Lore being with you on the surface gives him just the tidy alibi he would have needed, since there is no evidence to refute the doctor being killed in the last four hours, as opposed to some time in the last twelve.”

     Anna shook her head vehemently, “But there’s no proof! All of those things apply to everyone on board. _Everyone_ knew the personnel tracker was down.”

     The look of disgust he gave Anna was only slightly less than the actual sentiment, which Troi sensed in all its glory. He clearly did not think very highly of Anna.

     Anna looked at Picard with desperation. He was the one who should have been saying these things, offering these objections, but the fact that he wasn’t told her something. Troi could not bear what would happen when that ‘something’ came forth.

     “You are absolutely right, Lieutenant.” Cross said, “Everyone knew the personnel tracker was down. Everyone also knew that the station’s surveillance system was down. I’m sure Lore was counting on that too. What he wasn’t counting on was the fact that the surveillance cameras in docking legs D and E aren’t operated through the station’s main computer. They have their own back system, since personnel are almost never in those areas.”

     Anna took a slow step back, “Are…Are you saying you have…?”

     “Everything I’ve said so far makes perfect sense, but it’s also moot. Computer, bring up surveillance file D-twenty-six. Run to time index zero-eight-twenty-three hours.” Cross ordered.

     Picard stepped forward quickly, a hand raised, “General, I don’t think that’s necessary here. We can—.”

     “I believe Lieutenant Hall needs to see this, Captain. Unless you want her to expend more energy and time in a futile and embarrassing defense.”

     “No!” Anna cried, “I want to see it. I want to see what Goddamn _proof_ you think you have!”

     Cross was only too happy to oblige. “Computer, begin playback.”

     Anna stomped forward as the table produced a holographic flat screen above its center. The translucent image solidified to show a downward view of a corridor intersection. It was windowless and narrow, like all the sublevel corridors aboard the station. Troi followed her reactions with growing apprehension. For several long seconds, there was nothing. The screen merely showed an empty and quiet sub level corridor, then suddenly a dull thud and at the top of the screen Owen Warrick’s feet appeared. He walked fully into the frame as he came closer to the camera and the intersection. He was moving quickly, looking around in a mildly frustrated way. Just as he was about to reach the intersection, another figure came out suddenly, appearing from the corridor out of the left side of the screen.

     Anna gasped and clenched her fists. It was Lore. He faced the camera for just a second, but there was no question it was him. He faced Owen, stopping the man dead in his tracks.

     Owen stepped back, but some of him was now obscured by Lore’s head. Owen’s voice came through the sound system, “ _You_ did this?”

     What happened next was so swift and terrible that Troi almost lost her balance. With one sudden swipe of his hand, Lore grabbed Owen by the front of his uniform and swung him against the bulked to the right. Owen groaned, but was clearly still alive as he tried to struggle for a few seconds. They were very short seconds. Facing the camera now, Lore released Owen’s uniform front and the man tried to run in the direction toward the camera, but Lore caught him from behind. With one deft motion he wrapped his arm over Owen’s shoulder and, grabbed his chin from the opposite side, twisted his neck back. The break was so sickening and loud that the sound easily transferred through the image.

     Troi covered her mouth with both hands.

     The footage played on. Lore twisted until Owen’s head had made almost a one-hundred-eighty degree turn to the back, then dropped him like he was nothing. Owen’s body crumpled to the deck in place, like an accordion. Lore took a single step back, still looking down at Owen’s lifeless body, then, with no apparent rush or reaction, stepped over him and disappeared in the corridor from which he had entered.

     “Oh…Oh!” Anna clutched her hand over her mouth and spun away, but there was nowhere for her to go. She collapsed to her knees in the nearest corner and vomited.

     “Anna!” Crusher rushed over to her and immediately made to block her from everyone else’s view as she continued to gag. “Crusher to sickbay! Alyssa, I want you to prepare the respiratory chamber and a fast acting sedative!”

     Troi watched in horror as Anna’s mind devolved in a chaos of conflicting reactions. Horror, anger, denial, they fought against each other but neither seemed able to win out.

     “Damn you!” Picard shouted as he slammed his fist down on the imaging table, “There was no need for that!”

     Cross deactivated the surveillance play back and scowled, “I would think, Captain, that you would be more concerned with the officer and human being we lost today.”

     Troi opened her mouth, but immediately closed it. Was this a case of mistaken identity? Could the person on that footage have been B-4? She shook her head at herself. It did not even warrant mentioning. Since he was already aboard, B-4 would have been the first person they sought out, and he no doubt had a fool proof alibi. B-4 had been helping Geordie in engineering for hours, and there were no doubt dozens of witnesses to that effect.

     Anna sputtered in the corner and began to slump to the side. Her breathing had become shallow and slow, and she was barely conscious now.

     “Damn!” Crusher pressed her combadge, “Crusher to sickbay. Emergency transport for two, directly.” She gathered Anna up to keep her from slumping forward. The last thing Troi heard her say before the transporter beam took them was a sad whisper, “I’m sorry, Anna.”

     Cross stepped away from the table and looked at the large sesame doors on the other side of the room. They were the doors leading to the brig, where Lore’s unconscious body had been transported. He turned to Picard, “I’ve already sent a message to Admiral Roth, explaining everything. I have no doubt he will wish to revisit the Federation judiciary’s previous ruling on Lore, what with him being the new Justice and all.”

     Troi closed her eyes and looked up. The kind of satisfaction she sensed coming off of Cross was enough to make her ill. Picard rubbed his jaw with a tense hand. His eyes had darkened considerably.

     “If you are suggesting, Sir, that the Federation court will treat Lore any differently that a human accused of murder, I will fight it. Even the guilty among us still have rights, and please remember that capital punishment was eliminated in the Federation a long time ago.” Picard said these words with all the seriousness and confidence that they deserved, but Troi would sense something lurking beneath the surface; a sharp pang of guilt and doubt.

     Cross nodded, “You may be right, Captain, and I don’t care either way. I enforce the law. I don’t write it or give commentary on it. But, I will tell you this. There is no prison that will hold that android while he is conscious. _None._ So if you think he’s going to be given a sentence in a Federation prison, to sit and cool his heels with the other convicted murders, you are sadly mistaken. No court is that stupid. And certainly not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.” 

     Cross left the room without another glance, the station manager quickly in tow. Picard stared at the imaging table with a face like marble. Troi could sense that small pang of guilt and regret growing in him.

     “There was no way to know.” Troi said immediately, “He…he has free will. Like all of us.”

     “And all of us are capable of it, is that it Counselor?” Picard’s voice was low and rough, like gravel, “The difference is, most of us don’t have a past that should have warned everyone.”

     Troi didn’t know what to say. She could not defend Lore, but how could she say that taking him onboard, treating him like a man, had been a mistake? That was exactly what was being suggested here, for to have done anything differently would have been to deny Lore the rights of a person. Free, sentient creatures committed horrible acts every day.

     Picard turned toward the door and Troi moved to follow, her mind already swirling with how she was going to talk to B-4. Did B-4 even know? But, before they reached the door, Picard slowed to a stop. His brow was knitted in a questioning way.

     “Captain?”

     He shook his head, “Just a question. On the footage, Dr. Warrick said something. He said, ‘ _You_ did this?’ as a question. Did what? What was he talking about?”

     Troi wracked her brain, but she could think of nothing. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be explainable by what was on the footage. But, considering what _was_ on the footage, she wondered at his question. “Does it…matter? Really?”

     Picard scowled at the door in front of him. It was one of the harshest looks she had ever seen on the Captain. He shook his head roughly, “No. I suppose it doesn’t.”

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

     Bruce Maddox made a short but polite nod to a group of officers passing in the corridor. His posture was straight and his pace relatively light. He slowed and hugged the wall a bit as a large group moved past, giving him the usual overblown hellos reserved only for Captains and Admirals. All the while he could feel cold sweat dripping down his back. He maintained his tense smile all the way down the corridor toward his sparse, temporary quarters. He opened the door and stepped into the dark. He waited for the door to hiss shut behind him before he finally drew a breath. The action seemed to let lose all the control he had been maintaining. He scrambled into the direction of the bathroom and collapsed in front of the commode where he became violently sick.

     _Get a hold of yourself._

He pushed back, but remained still, for his stomach still lurched up against his throat. He could still see the image, over and over again, the image that Cross was probably showing Picard and the others right now. It wasn’t so much the image, but rather the _sound_. That snap of the neck, more like a super quick series of crunches rather than a ‘snap’. He was a scientist. He had never been on an away mission, or seen combat. He had never seen anything like that in his life.

     _Get a fucking hold of yourself!_

     It made no sense why he was panicking now. If there had been a suitable moment for panic it would have been on the promenade when he was only a few yards from Lore. Maybe no one else had noticed, but he had certainly seen the look of outright hatred Lore had shot at him with those accompanying words, _Stay away from me!_ Oh, but there would be no staying away from him. Not after this. _This_ guaranteed that, sooner rather than later, Maddox would have virtually unhindered access to be as close to Lore as he wanted.

     He forced himself to his feet and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. In a sudden fit of disgust, he unzipped his uniform top and threw the now soiled item across the room. Stalking to the sink, he activated the faucet and leaned over it. Cool water splashed into his hands and he slapped it over his face roughly. As he looked up and faced his eyes in the mirror, he scowled. What he saw was pathetic. A man sweating like a pig, puking at the memory of a violent image like some green cadet! History was not made this way. The advancement of human society, the advancement of the Federation was _not_ going to be made this way, and those things were all that mattered.

     _He was just one person. Just_ one _human._

     Maddox pushed back from the sink, and with a kind of force of will he hardly thought himself capable of, the twisting in his stomach ceased. The sweat on his back grew cold and already began to dry into the material of his undershirt. It was done. Everything was done. There was no point in crying about it now. As he turned and wiped his hands on a towel from the rack, he shrugged, as if trying to convince himself with his own calm. A hundred years from now, maybe sooner, when his work made it possible for humans to no longer die in meaningless industrial accidents or on the battle field fighting the Dominion or the Borg or whoever the hell…no one would care about this. No one would being thinking about some dead junior doctor.

     He just wished he could have gone without _seeing_ it.

    

    

    

     

 


	44. Chapter 44

 

**_“I do not like Lore if he is bad.”_ **

03:20 HOURS AFTER ARREST

     Engineering was dead. Geordie LaForge had called a temporary suspension to the new engine install more than two hours ago and told his people not to bother coming back until tomorrow. Normally this would have been madness. The _Enterprise_ was a wreck and the maintenance schedules were always so tight, but not right now. Right now, they were still two days ahead of schedule. _Two days…._ And who did he have to thank for that?

     “Damn, Lore….” Geordie groaned and rubbed his hands down his weary face. He shouldn’t be tired. He had gotten more than enough sleep, for once, until Crusher had contacted him and told him that he absolutely, _positively_ , needed to make sure that B-4 stayed occupied. It had been damn confusing until she had followed it up, quickly telling him everything that had happened before the rumor mill got a chance to. It was one of the reasons he had put a stop to the work in engineering. If there were no people around, no one would be to slip up and say something to B-4.

     _How am I going to tell him?_ He looked across the room at the open junction door. Just beyond, B-4 stood in front of an open panel and slowly removed the connecting points for a field generator. LaForge had just installed that generator yesterday, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything else to have him do. He just needed him to stay calm, stay away from people, and most importantly stay _over there._ He didn’t want B-4 to see what was on the screen before him.

     Geordie looked down once more, clenching his jaw as he did. The surveillance footage played through at regular speed and, for the tenth time thus far, he watched as Lore broke Dr. Warrick’s neck with his bare hands. It wasn’t getting easier. Each time was like the first, and Geordie worried that he would never going to eat again if he kept this up, but…he did keep it up.

     Even he wasn’t sure why he had gotten a copy of the footage through the station security captain. He was even less sure of why he was watching it over and over again, sometimes watching the center action and other times watching the peripheries. He studied the walls of the corridors, the deck, the shadows that played behind Lore’s feet through the overhead lights. What the hell was he looking for? What was the point?

     _Why do I think he didn’t do it?_

     That was the real question, and one he didn’t really want to acknowledge. He just…didn’t think Lore did it. How could that make sense? He didn’t even like Lore. He, of all people, knew the sort of cruel acts Lore was capable of, but….No. He knew what kind of cruel acts Lore _had been_ capable of.

     He suffered through the playback once more and slammed his hands down on the console. Nothing. Not one damn thing to indicate a fraud! The shadows were perfect, the audio synch was perfect, even the echoes off the corridor walls were a dead match to the computer simulation he had run. So, there it was. Lore did it. So, why was Geordie so Goddamn pissed about it?

     “God, I’m sorry, Data….” Geordie muttered through his hands. He deactivated the screen but left the file open. Maybe that was it. It wasn’t really about Lore, it was about Data. Data had come to trust Lore, Geordie knew that, and he had gone out of his way to make sure that Lore came back some day. That letter he had left for Troi…Christ! He felt like all of Data’s hopes were being dashed, and it was just wrong!

     And what about B-4? He would be alone again now.

     “I have finished removing the generator.” B-4 said, giving Geordie a start. His hand darted to the screen, but luckily he had already deactivated it.

     “Great. Thanks, Bee.” Geordie said as he stood up and walked toward the control room entrance. B-4 stood with the generator held in both hands, like some kind of trophy. Geordie forced a smile and took it from him. “Okay, eh…I have another one that I’d like for you to install now. Okay?”

     “Okay.” B-4 said brightly.

     Geordie walked to the back of the control room and entered the small tool room there. Leaving the door open, he deposited the brand new generator onto a shelf and removed another, shaking his head. He felt like an inexperienced baby sitter. It was a good thing he didn’t have kids. They would probably never learn to read, but they would sure learn how to disassemble a plasma manifold in twenty minutes flat. He returned to the control room with the generator and was immediately worried. B-4 was still standing in the place he had left him, but now his expression was tense and worried.

     “Geordie,” B-4 said, “Are you all right? You seem unhappy.”

     He expelled a long stream of air and cursed nothing in particular. Half the time B-4 seemed oblivious, the other half he was downright empathic! “I’m fine, Bee, I just….” He shook his head suddenly. No. This was going to have to happen eventually, “Actually, I’m not fine.”

     “Why?”

     Geordie tapped his combadge. They had planned on doing this later, but the time had come. They needed to know what was going to happen so that they could deal with it. “LaForge to Troi. Could you come to main engineering, please?”

     “I’ll be right there, Geordie.” Troi responded.

     He closed the channel and looked up at B-4 again. That anxious look had not left his face, and Geordie hoped— _prayed_ , despite his scientific nature—that anxiety was the only thing they would see there. He had never seen anger on B-4’s face, and he never wanted to.

 

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     _Something is wrong. Something has happened._

     B-4 nodded imperceptibly. He had learned his lesson about talking aloud to Data, although he still did it sometimes in the privacy of his quarters, where it was safe. He did not understand what Data was telling him, not entirely, but he knew he was right. Something had made Geordie upset.

     He looked up happily as Troi entered main engineering. B-4 liked Deanna Troi. She was nice and beautiful and she talked about Data sometimes, which he thought was funny because he talked _to_ Data all the time.

     _Counselor Troi is upset._

B-4 frowned. Yes. He could see it now. She was not smiling and the lines on her forehead were deeper. That meant humans were upset.

     “Hello, Bee.” Troi said in a soft, low voice.

     B-4's frown only intensified. Voices. Humans changed their voices to match their moods, their intentions. Troi did not sound the way she usually did.

     “Bee, look.” Geordie began. He had come to stand next to the control table with Troi. B-4 stood on the other side, “I have some bad news to tell you.”

     “Yes,” Troi said, nodding, “But, we want you to know now that what has happened doesn’t have any bearing on you. And we won’t _let_ it have any bearing on you. Okay?”

     “Bearing…?” B-4 frowned. He did not understand.

     Geordie sighed, “What we mean is, we don’t want you to be afraid. Okay? Nothing is going to happen to you.”

     “O…kay.” B-4 said. He could feel his hands beginning to shake. Oh, he did not like that! People were supposed to be in control of their hands!

     “Bee,” Troi leaned into the table, her eyes heavy, “Lore was taken into custody by Terran Home Defense guards earlier today. He…um….”

     “He did something bad?” B-4 asked. He knew that Lore had done bad things. Data had told him all about those bad things, but Lore was not bad anymore. No. Lore was good and nice to him and he loved Anna. B-4 smiled suddenly, “Can I see him later? After they let him go for the bad thing?”

     Troi closed her eyes and gave Geordie an agonized look. He couldn’t pick up the ball for her, and looked away. “No, Bee.” She continued, “They aren’t going to let him go. Lore…hurt Dr. Warrick. Dr. Warrick is dead.”

     His eyes widened and he stood very still, waiting. He could understand people now, much better than he could weeks ago, but…but….Dr. Warrick was dead, and Lore hurt him? Did Lore hurt him _before_ he died? “I…I do….” His hands were trembling again.

     Geordie turned suddenly, almost angrily, and said, “Lore murdered Dr. Warrick, Bee. He killed him.”

     _No!_

“No!” B-4 stepped back away from the table.

     “Bee, calm down!” Troi called. She raised her hands in a softening gesture towards him, “I’m sorry, Bee, I truly am.”

     B-4 darted his eyes around the room, but what reason he did not know. He was searching for something, someone to make what Geordie said go away. Why would Geordie say that? Why would Geordie say that Lore was bad?

     _How? When? Ask them, Bee!_

     “How? When?” B-4 repeated the words, but wasn’t even sure of what he was asking.

     Troi looked startled by this, “That doesn’t matter right now. It’s just…It’s just important that you know that you probably won’t ever see Lore again.”

     B-4 stepped back again and was making strange sounds of objection, hardly even words. His hands trembled more now and he could feel moisture on his face. He reached up and felt streams of warm water coming down from his eyes. Why was he doing that? Troi came around the table suddenly and headed for him.

     _They are wrong! I do not believe it._

     “Yes!” B-4 cried suddenly, startling Troi. He turned to her, his tear heavy eyes wide, “I..I do not believe it! Lore is good, and he loves Anna, and he is _good!”_

Geordie moved forward now, his hands also raised in a calming manner. “Bee, _please_ calm down. I know you don’t want to believe this. None of us do, but we’ve _seen_ it!”

     _No…._

“You…saw him?” B-4 felt his chest grow tight and heavy. Oh, such a strange feeling! He almost never _felt_ things physically.

     “Yes,” Geordie said, “There was a surveillance camera that recorded it, Bee. I’m sorry, but there’s proof.”

     “Geordie.” Troi warned quickly. Her look spoke volumes, none of which B-4 understood.

     _Stay calm! Don’t react!_

     B-4 became as still as possible. He still trembled, but his feet were firmly in place. What was he going to do? He did not want to be alone again. Data was with him, inside, but it was not the same. And… and… how would Lore help Data now?

     _Listen very carefully, Bee. Tell them you understand and you believe them. No! Do not object. I do not believe it either, but you must pretend now. We have discussed ‘pretending’, remember?_

B-4’s trembles translated into a nod.

     “Bee, are you all right?” Troi said as she finally reached him and put her hands on his shoulders.

     “Yes. I am fine.” He said, not looking at her. “I understand. I believe you.”  

     _Very good. Now, tell Geordie that you would like to install the generator. Please do it, Bee._

“Geordie, I would like to install the field generator now.”

     Geordie’s jaw actually fell open a bit, and he gave Troi an incredulous look, “You…you want to work now? Bee, we just told you—.”

     “That sounds like a good idea.” Troi said soothingly. She rubbed B-4’s shoulder and forced a smile, “Maybe you just need to…think for a while. Do some work and think.”

     B-4 nodded, not because Data told him to but because he was slowly beginning to understand what Data wanted. He wanted them to believe that he believed. He wanted them to go away. He listened to Data’s next instructions and almost cried out his objection, but he knew it had to be. Data was always right. Data never told him to do things that were not for the best.

     With wide eyes, B-4 said, “If Lore killed Dr. Warrick, then that means Lore is bad. I…I do not like Lore if he is bad.” Oh! Why would lying hurt? It made no sense that words should hurt!

     Troi frowned and lowered her hands, “Bee, why are you….”

     “I want to install the generator.” B-4 walked past them into the control room. The generator Geordie had taken from storage rested on the console.

     “What is he doing?” Geordie whispered.

     “I don’t know. Listen, I just want him to….” Troi and Geordie stepped further into the main bay and conversed in quick, tense whispers. B-4 could hear all of it. They were worried about him. They did not want him to ‘panic’ or ‘overreact’. They wanted to protect him.

     B-4 picked up the generator, but his trembling had not stopped. He gripped the side piece too hard and it snapped off in his hand, allowing that end of the generator to fall back onto the console face. The raised screen on the console activated with a dull grayish light.

     “Oh….” B-4 gasped at the screen. He saw a still image of a corridor intersection. Two men stood near the middle, facing one another. It was Lore and Dr. Warrick.

     _Bee, put the generator down slowly. Be quiet._

He did it.

     _Get a PADD from the storage drawer._

B-4 knelt down and slowly opened a drawer next to the chair. He removed a PADD and, still followed Data’s instructions, set it on the uplink pad next to Geordie’s screen.

     “I want to see.” B-4 whispered, “I want to see if Lore killed Dr. Warrick. If I see, I will know if it’s true or not.”

     _That is not true, Bee. What we see is not always the truth. Deactivate the screen and take the PADD. Quickly!_

B-4 could hear Geordie and Troi’s conversation coming to a close. He shut down the screen and snatched up the PADD, then tucked into the back of his waistband under his sweater. He grabbed the generator and held it in front of him.

     “Bee….” Geordie said as he reentered the room, “I don’t know how you’re dealing with this, but if you want to work we’ll work. I’m…I’m here for you, buddy. Okay?”

     “Buddy….” B-4 whispered. Dr. Soong called him that. Lore called him that. “Okay.”

     Data almost never took control, but for the next thirty minutes B-4 watched in awe as Data moved his hands with quick precision, installing the generator in record time. When he was finished he bid Geordie goodbye, told him he wished to paint, and retreated back to his quarters. 

 

 

    

    

 

    


	45. Chapter 45

**_“I was thinking something more like…vulture’s feast.”_ **

05:05 HOURS AFTER ARREST

     The speed at which everything was moving was simply too much. Picard had hardly set foot in his ready room to look over the particulars of the arrest file before he had received a summons from Admiral Roth. Apparently, General Cross had not been mistaken when he said Lore’s case would warrant attention from the very highest realms of the Federation court system. Of course, Picard already knew that. It had been the Supreme Court that freed Lore. It would have made no sense for a lesser court to hear this issue now.

     Only, it angered Picard that this ‘case’ was being heard at all, for they were not talking about the murder of Owen Warrick. Shockingly enough, charges had not even been filed. He had checked and double checked but…there had been no murder charges. He knew why, and it only put a deeper sting of anger through him. Why would someone charge a _thing_ with murder? That was the writing on the wall. _That_ was what was happening here.

     “Admiral, the procedure we should be following in this instance is very clear.” He said from his place at the conference table, “Lore killed Dr. Warrick. We have proof to that effect. He should be charged and proceedings for his trial should begin.”

     “Captain, I really think you’re jumping the gun here.” Roth said as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his front. Roth was well into his sixties, with a head of thinning white hair and mildly thick beard. He put off a casual, easy manner, which was not always a good thing. 

     “Now,” Roth continued, “I understand where you’re coming from. It sounds pretty cut and dry, but…let’s face facts. We can’t hold a typical trial here. He’ll be found guilty, and then what? The law is pretty clear about the penalties for first degree murder and— _and,”_ He raised a finger when Picard made to object, “And the treatment of prisoners under Federation law.”

     “My point exactly, Sir.” Picard said. Despite his attempt not to, he shot a speculative glare down the table. General Cross and one of his deputies were in attendance, as well as Bruce Maddox. What the hell was he doing there?

     Roth shook his head, “I’m not sure you get _my_ point, Captain. We can’t imprison Lore according to our own laws. You can’t drug prisoners, keep them unconscious, or whatever would be the human equivalent here. I think we all know that the only way Lore can be imprisoned is to be deactivated and disassembled. _But…_ that would be illegal.”

     Picard ground his teeth and looked at the table. He knew where this was going. Damnation, but he knew where it _had_ to go! Lore did not fit the model of Federation law, and so the law was going to be set aside. Better yet, Lore was going to be set aside.

     “And so….” Picard said, his voice tight, “the court will revisit its previous ruling, and Lore will be declared a _thing_. Property.”

     Roth sighed, “Now, Captain, I don’t like this any more than you do…”

     _Why do I doubt that, Sir?_

     “…but look at what we’re dealing with here. You just said it yourself. He killed Dr. Warrick. He’s guilty, and he’d be found guilty in a trial. Now, considering his past crimes, I can guarantee you the sentence would be life in prison. Do you know how long an android lives, because I don’t?”

     At this, Picard felt his patience waning. They were all going to skirt around the issue, and for what? For him? He was the only one in the room who entertained the idea that Lore was a person with rights and dignity. Despite how angry he was—and damnit, he _was_ angry at Lore!—he was not going to disrespect Data’s memory by throwing everything away. He leaned forward and stared down the table.

     “Am I to assume, Admiral, that it is your intention to have Lore’s declaration of personhood rescinded, and there after turn him over to the Daystrom Institute for research purposes?” The room grew very quiet, and Picard could see from the look on Roth and Maddox’s faces that they had not expected this bluntness.

     Maddox leaned forward, “Captain, with all due respect, you’re making this sound like some kind of—.”

     “Witch hunt?” Picard offered, “No, Doctor. I don’t think that term would be appropriate. I was thinking something more like…vulture’s feast.”

     “Now, hold on a minute, Captain.” Roth said, chuckling in that damned manner he was famous for. “Captain Maddox is just here to advice, considering the circumstances. If he hadn’t been on board for General Cross to consult, we might have ended up having kill Lore to apprehend him.”

     “Forgive me, Sir, but what is the difference? We are talking about killing him, are we not? If it’s with a phaser or by disassembling him for eternity, I see no distinction. Except one.” Here, Picard directed his glare straight at Bruce Maddox, “Death by phaser would, probably, have caused a lot of synaptic damage. Isn’t that right, Doctor? We wouldn’t have wanted your cadaver to be damaged _before_ the dissection!”

     “Good God….” Cross groaned from his place across the table, “Is that it? You’re willing to accept we can’t imprison him, so you _must_ be willing to accept he has to stay deactivated. But, you just don’t want him to be studied?” Cross snorted and looked out the window, “You want his pieces to be locked up in his cell for the next thousand years. If he’s to _never_ be reactivated, than what does it matter if he goes to the Daystrom Institute, if he’s studied? Who cares?”

     “General, there’s no need to be confrontation here.” Roth said quickly.

     “Who cares?” Picard shook his head slowly and felt close to boiling over, “Do we routinely dissect and harvest organs from dead prisoners, Sir? Can you think of any reason why we don’t do that?”

     “You can’t be serious.” Cross grumbled. The man was clearly fed up with the entire discussion. He folded his arms and looked out over the windows beyond.

     “Captain, I’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing here.” Roth said, frowning now, “Lore is the only remaining, _viable_ Soong android in existence. Now, you’re telling me that if we had a humanoid prisoner who was the last of his kind die in prison that we would just…what? Bury him and be done with it? Dr. Maddox has been very eloquent on this point, and I’m afraid I have to agree. We can’t just throw away the key to the future of cybernetics because we want to apply human mores and customs to him. Now,” Here, Roth stood and smoothed his uniform from. Everyone else rose as well, “Now, of course things would have been different if Lore had not committed this horrible act. But, what’s done it done, and we’re in an unwinnable situation here. We might as well take our silver linings, which will be the benefit that Lore provides to cybernetic research.”

     “I see.” Picard pushed his chair in and pulled his uniform front down, “Then, Admiral, I will be certain to relay your sentiment to B-4. I will remind him that he is a person with rights and dignity…so long as he stays in line.”

     With that, Picard did something he had never done in his nearly thirty years of service. He turned his back on a standing Admiral and left the room, without being dismissed.

 

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07:30 HOURS AFTER ARREST

 

     “That’s bull shit! Bull! Shit!”

     Blake dropped his jaw and gawked. He had never thought he would hear something like that out of Teni’s sweet, innocent mouth. But, then again, he had only known her for two days. _And_ it was sort of his fault. He had taken her to the holodeck where they had spent the last three hours on mid Twenty-First century Earth. The language had been pretty colorful.

     “I know, I know.” Blake groaned, running his hands through his hair, making it stand up crazily, “But, they have surveillance footage, Teni. Dear God, but…it’s all over the news!”

     “They can take their footage and shove it up their butts!” Teni fumed. She was pacing hard, the full length of her dress swishing around her as she turned, “And how could they do that? How? This happened only a few hours ago and it’s all over the news?”

     Blake nodded angrily. That really didn’t make any sense. “I know. It’s…not exactly normal. I mean, giving evidence to the press like that? That stuff is supposed to be kept privileged for the trial, but it’s _all_ out there. The Federation News Network published the entire arrest file, for God’s sake! And General Cross is out there telling everyone what he thinks happened.”

     Teni stopped and pressed her fingers over her lips suddenly, “Oh, Gods….Anna. She must be….”

     Blake rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her. He was a hopeless romantic, everyone knew that, but even Blake had never thought in a million years that he would fall for someone so fast. Teni buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

     “He saved my life.” Teni gargled, her words barely understandable, “He wouldn’t do something like that. How could he do something like that?”

     “I don’t know.” Blake offered. It was pathetic, but he really didn’t. He was an engineer. He believed his eyes, and he could only imagine that the footage playing all over the news had been checked and rechecked by experts. If it wasn’t real, someone would have discovered it by now. Right?

      “It’s because he’s not human.” Teni continued, “That’s why they put everything on the news and are out there saying he did it. They’re not going to have a trial, Timothy.”

      Blake sighed. He normally couldn’t stand it when anyone called him by this first name, but Teni made it sound wonderful. He nodded mutely because he knew she was right. That was exactly what was happening. The evidence against Lore was overwhelming, and since most everyone hated him anyway….

     “It’s bull shit.” He said.

     “Yeah.” Teni said, rubbing her eyes, “Bull shit. I wonder how Anna is doing. I can’t imagine it’s very good.”

     He had to agree. Knowing Anna, she was refusing to accept any of it. She was probably so mired in denial that that Dr. Crusher would have to sedate her. But…Anna had been right when she said Lore wasn’t dead. She had been so insistent, demanded that they scan and rescan the surface of Ohniaka III. Blake knew people onboard had called her crazy, obsessed, but who had been right in the end? Maybe, since she was half El’Aurian….

     _No. You have to believe your eyes, Blake._

He released Teni the moment she started to pull away, for he was still nervous about seeming too forward. She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. “Timothy?”

     “Yeah?” He said, smiling a little.

     “I…I don’t think he did it. I don’t care if there’s surveillance footage. And…and I’m going to find Lt. Hall and tell her I don’t think he did it.”

     Blake sighed heavily. He knew he should be discouraging her. He should be laying out all the logical points about the video, the circumstantial evidence, everything that Cross was out there talking about, but…he couldn’t. Not because he wanted to please her, but because he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself.

     “Okay.”

     She smile and hugged him, “Okay.

    

    

 

 

    


	46. Chapter 46

_“ **You’ve always hated him.”**_

09:20 HOURS AFTER ARREST

     Anna awoke with a start and knew she had been sedated. She also knew that she must have had another incident with her lungs. The organ growth stimulant pulsed through her veins, giving her a feeling of alertness and strength that was almost frightening. The last time she had woken up like this had also been after a monumental shock, but this time it was very different. This time, nothing was the same. She sat up straight and threw her legs over the side of the bio-bed.

     “Hey, hey! Hold on, there!” Crusher said as she came out of her office and rushed to the side of Anna’s bed.

     “I’m fine.” Anna deadpanned, but Crusher kept her from hopping down off the bed.

     “I’m not so sure.” Crusher sighed, “I want to call Troi to come down here and see you before you go anywhere.”

     Anna frowned and felt her chest heave, “You think I need a grief counselor?”

     Crusher’s jaw moved several time without producing words. Finally, “I…I don’t know, Anna. I can’t even begin to imagine what you must be going through right now. I just can’t.”

     Anna felt her chest heave a little more, but she forced it under control. She had only seen it once, but the memory was seared, burnt into her mind like a brand. Lore, so calm and collected, twisting Owen’s neck like a bottle top. She felt her stomach lurch again, but it was clear she had nothing left with which to be sick.

     “I just want to look over you again.” Crusher muttered as she reached for a tricorder. As she waved it over Anna is slow swipes, Anna’s mind drifted in a mire. She had seen Lore kill Owen. She had _seen_ it. It would have happened some time the night before he came down to Wallace. As he touched her and kissed her in her parent’s living room, while he was bantering with her mother and playing baseball, Owen Warrick was lying dead in a rarely used sublevel corridor. It…it just didn’t compute for her. He had been so happy, so light hearted all day and…and he had only just killed someone?

     Anna clenched her eyes shut and ignored Crusher’s concerned questions. Was there anything— _anything—_ that could make this all make sense? Did Lore say or do anything yesterday that would shed light on this nightmare? What did he say?

     _…no need to worry. I got Owen back._

_I did not punch him._

_I merely got him out of my way._

_He likes you. He wants you. And I just can’t have that._

“No.” She muttered through clenched teeth. Anna shook her head from side to side. “Damnit, no!”

     “Anna, what’s wrong?” Crusher said, stepped back with the tricorder.

     “What happened between Owen and Lore yesterday? Something happened, right? Lore did something?” Anna’s eyes were big and desperate. She hoped Crusher knew what she meant, that she wasn’t just going to say something stupid like _Yes. He murdered Owen._

Crusher swallowed hard and sighed, “In the café, there was a… an altercation. He tripped Owen while he was walking with his food to our table. He wasn’t exactly apologetic in any kind of…mmm…convincing way.”

     Anna released a pent up breath and laughed. It was so laced with misery that she must have sounded slightly insane. Of course. Of course! That was what Lore had been talking about. The damn café! It had to be, because the only other explanation would be that the vague comments he had  made yesterday were in reference to Owen’s murder, and Lore would never do that. Lore would not kill Owen, and he sure as hell would not smile about it and give Anna cute little hints the next day! He wasn’t a monster!

     “Anna, you’re kind of scaring me.” Crusher said, placing a hand on her arm, “Talk to me.”

     She met her eyes directly, “Lore didn’t kill Owen.”

     Crusher closed her eyes and looked almost pained, “Anna, I know you don’t want to believe it, but…God! You _saw_ it.”

     Anna shook her head, “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

     “It doesn’t matter?” Crusher looked really worried now, “I think you do need to talk to Troi, Anna. Please.”

     “No. I’m not the one who needs to talk to Troi. _Lore_ needs to talk to Troi!” Anna was insistent now, hopeful as the idea rushed through her mind, “She can talk to him and then she’ll be able to tell everyone that he’s telling the truth. She’ll know he isn’t lying!”

     “And damnit, Anna! What if he _is_ lying?” Crusher sat the tricorder on the bed and brought her hand to her forehead, “What if he stands right in front of you and lies to you? Are you going to believe Troi then? Will that be more convincing than actually seeing him do it?”

     Anna turned away. Her throat felt like it was closing. She knew she should be logical, she should just accept it, but…but she couldn’t! This was the same thing she had put herself through when they told her Lore was dead, and she wasn’t going to do that again. She didn’t care if it made no sense. She did. Not. Care.

     She tried to look away from Crusher, but all she managed was a hurt expression, “You…you hate him. You’ve always hated him.”

     “No, Anna….” Crusher shook her head sadly, “I didn’t hate him. I…really didn’t.”

     Anna scowled. She knew she was being cruel, for how could they understand? They had seen him do it. It only made sense that they believed it. Still, she said, “It would have been nice if you had told him that. And do you mean you _didn’t_ hate him, or you _don’t_?”

     Crusher’s eyes darkened, “Damnit, Anna, that’s not fair.”

     “I—.” The nasty retort died on her lips. What was she doing? What was she hoping to accomplish by being like this? “I’m sorry.”

     Crusher rubbed her forehead again, but said nothing more. It was just as well, because at that moment a soft rustle of fabric brought Anna’s attention toward the door. A young woman stood just in the entrance, looking somewhat nervous as if she was not sure if she belonged there. It was that Bajoran woman. Teni.

     Anna stepped down from the bio bed gave Crusher a somewhat apologetic glance, “I have to go find Captain Picard, ask him about seeing Lore. It looks like you have a patient anyway.”

     “No.” Teni said suddenly. She took a few long strides into the room, her hands fidgeting against her stomach. “I was actually looking for you.”

     Anna stopped and frowned, not because she disliked Teni or anything like that. Her mind was just on other things. She waited.

     “Look, um….” Teni looked very nervous and began twisting the fabric of her dress between her fingers, “I just thought you should know that, um, I don’t think Lore murdered Dr. Warrick.”

     Anna’s eyes widened, “You don’t? Why?” She was almost hopeful. Did Teni know something? Did she have something that could exonerate Lore?

     “I don’t know.” Teni muttered, “I know what they’re saying and all, but…I just don’t believe it. You probably don’t care what I think, but I just thought you should know that.”

     Anna made another bitter sweet laugh and covered her mouth with his hand. Teni had nothing, she wasn’t going to be any help, but it felt good to know that someone else believed, that _someone_ knew Lore wasn’t evil. Crusher said nothing, but Anna could almost feel the hopeless frustration coming off of her.

     _I’m not insane, Doctor._

     “Thank you.” Anna said, drawing in a deep breath, “But I don’t believe Lore is innocent.”

     “What?” Teni actually took a step back she was so shocked.

     “No.” Anna shook her head, “I _know_ he is. I know it, and I don’t need any proof.” She turned a little to face Crusher as well, “I know you think he did it, Beverly, and that’s okay. You saw the footage. I don’t expect you to think otherwise, but….But I’m going to prove it, somehow. I’m half El’Aurian. I have nothing but time, and if it takes me a hundred years to get Lore out of prison, then I will see him in a hundred years.”

     “Oh!” Teni gasped suddenly and pressed her hand to her mouth. Anna looked at her as the woman roved nervous eyes over the room. She said, “Have…have you been asleep in her? You were ill?”

     “Yes.” Anna said, confused.

     “Gods, you don’t know….” Teni dropped her hands and was suddenly pale, “Anna, Lore isn’t going to prison. He isn’t even going to get a trial.”

     _What?_ She felt the backs of her knees grow weak, but she did not fall. The growth stimulant in her blood propped her up like a brace tied to a sapling. “What are you talking about?”

     “Oh, God….” Crusher exhaled through her hands, “Anna, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you yet.”

     “Tell me what!” She demanded.

     “It’s everywhere!” Teni shook her head angrily, “All over the news! They’re saying he did it and…and they’re _showing_ everyone.”

     Anna’s blood ran cold. Literally, she could feel the sharp pang in her veins like ice water. Showing everyone? Showing what? There was only one answer. “They…they can’t do that. How could they do that?”

     “I’m sorry, Anna.” Crusher clenched her eyes and looked at the ceiling. “I spoke to Captain Picard not too long ago. He had a meeting with Admiral Roth about what they’re going to do with Lore.”

     “ _Do_ with him?” Anna spat. She clenched her fists so hard that she could feel her nails biting into her palms, “How can they _do_ anything but put him on trial, bring evidence, a jury? That’s what we _do!_ ”

     “No.” Teni sighed, “That’s what they do for humans.”

     “No!” Anna covered her eyes with her hands. How could this be happening? This was settled. The Federation court had released Lore on the very grounds that he was a person with rights. How could they just be sweeping all of that under the rug now? It had to be a mistake. Teni and Crusher must have misunderstood something. “You said it was on the news? I want to see for myself!”

     “Anna, wait!” Crusher called, but it was too late. Anna had already darted toward the exit and was half way down the wide corridor leading ot the promenade. Wall panels along the promenade main deck were often used to broadcast important news feeds and other mass transmissions. If they were right, it would have to be there. Anna skidded to a stop at the end of the corridor and looked around. A wall panel just off to the right was active, and the silver and blue graphics told her that it was the Federation New Network feed. She rushed forward, not even slowing for the two officers who already stood watching the screen.

     “Anna, please.” Crusher said in a tense whisper.

     Anna ignored her and stood like a statue as she watched. The screen showed a stock image of the station while a news reporter outlined the _facts_ thus far.

     “Security personnel aboard Dry Dock Three report that the surveillance system in that section of the station was still operational, allowing them to capture this horrendous footage. It has been edited for time.”

     The news reporter slid over into a narrower box while another appeared at his side, a grey image of a corridor intersection. Anna spun around, looking away. She didn’t need to see it again. She trembled and tried to remain still, tried to breath.

     “Anna.” Crusher whispered harshly. Anna didn’t take note of her until she grabbed her arm. When she looked up, she seemed to just be noticing the room for the first time. Eyes, everywhere, looked at her. People in the café up ahead, the two officers standing just behind her, and others; they all stared with mixed expressions of curiosity and disapproval. A few even shook their heads and looked away from her, a clear rebuke.

     “Come with me.” Crusher whispered again, “Please.”

     “Where is he?” Anna demanded. Her voice was low but so insistent that Crusher did not even try to brush it aside.

     “He’s still in the brig, but…Anna, I think you know where he’s going.” Crusher lowered her eyes with something almost like guilt. It struck Anna. Why should she feel guilty? Did she approve of this? Was she okay with Lore being laid out on a lab table for the benefit of science?

     “Yeah, I know.” Anna’s voice was like ice, so unlike her that she surprised even herself. “I know exactly what they’re doing.” Since the moment she awoke, Anna had been so concerned with solidifying her beliefe in Lore’s innocence that she had not given a moment’s thought to what must have _really_ happened. Now, as she stood in a wide promenade being gawked at like some pariah, she allowed the questions to swirl in her mind.

     If Lore did not kill Owen—and he _didn’t—_ who did? Someone did. If there was anything that was absolutely certain, it was that Owen was dead and he had been murdered. The other certain fact was that Lore was being framed for it. Why would someone do that? Who could possible benefit?

     “Maddox did this. I know it.”

     “Christ, Anna!” Crusher fumed, grabbing her arm now. She pulled her back in the direction of the sickbay with as little show as she could, but Anna was not making it easy. She followed clumsily, as if her legs would not work.

     “Maddox?” Teni said. She was still standing near the entrance to the sickbay corridor, where she had stopped following Anna and Crusher, “I…I think I know that name. Yeah, he was on the news too. A tall guy with dark hair, tanned skin? A Captain?”

     Anna nodded.

     Teni’s eyes darkened angrily, “Yeah, I saw him. He said he was looking forward to ‘correcting’ his mistakes. Oh, yeah, he had this whole fake self-deprecating speech about how he ‘blamed himself’ for this and how he thought he had ‘corrected Lore’s problems’, whatever that means.”

     Anna closed her eyes against the rage building behind them. It all made sense, and yet none of it made sense. How? How could Maddox have possibly accomplished this? She was about to ask the question when she suddenly realized, in a cold wave of horror, that the question didn’t matter because time was running out. Bruce Maddox’s _corrections_ were a joke. The experiments that he wanted, that he needed, to conduct on Lore had nothing to do with ethical subroutines or emotional response triggers or any of that nonsense! Maddox was not interested in making Lore a ‘better person’. All of he wanted from Lore was the template for his neural net so that it could be used to manufacture other positronic brains, and Anna knew the process for attaining that template meant the total erasure of Lore’s memory banks. It meant his death.

     Lore was an original mold about to be broken.

     “I have to go.” Anna muttered. She spun around and moved quickly, not allowed Crusher to issue any more objections. She crossed the promenade under the heavy stares of strangers and disappeared into the airlock corridor leading to the _Enterprise._ At the moment, she had no idea where she was going or what she was going to do.

     The reality of it left her numb.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

14:45 HOURS AFTER ARREST

 

     Seven of Nine stood with her hands clasped firmly behind her back, her posture perfectly erect and still. Her only movements were the occasional cock of her head as she heard something odd or saw the footage play back again. The story had been on a loop since early that morning, and did not appear to be letting up. After yet another ten second playback of the murder footage, the reporter introduced General Cross, who delivered a prerecorded statement that had already been played multiple times.

     “Had it not been for the surveillance footage in docking leg D, I have no doubt that the android’s actions would have gone undetected. He depressurized the corridor and deactivated the environmental heating systems, which has made it impossible for medical examiners to issue a decent time of death. We do know, however, from witnesses who saw Dr. Warrick at certain times, that he was killed some time late last night.”

     Seven cocked her head again, but said nothing.

     “General!” A reporter from off screen shouted, “Can you give us any kind of clarification on the audio? What did Dr. Warrick mean when he asked ‘You did this?’”

     General Cross shook his head, “We have no information that would allow us to shed any light on this. I think we can assume that Dr. Warrick was accusing Lore of something else that we simply haven’t discovered yet. Perhaps he was referring to whatever means Lore used to lure him down to docking leg D. But that’s all speculation and has no bearing on the rest of this incident.”

      _Incident._ Seven noted, and not for the first time, that the use of typical criminal terminology had been disappearing from the news broadcasts. It was no longer a _case_ , but rather an _incident._ Lore was being reported as the _cause_ of Dr. Warrick’s death, not as the culprit or perpetrator. Such words implied the justice system, which was clearly being glossed over.

     Seven cocked her head again, and just so slightly narrowed her eyes. _Interesting._

     “God! Turn it off!” Geordie demanded as he entered the engineering bay. He was practically speed walking, a clear indication that he was angry, “I don’t want to hear it anymore!”

     Seven tapped the screen and it went dark. She turned around and watched Geordie angrily start punching up the daily schedule. He had only just resumed the maintenance tasks an hour ago, and the crew was tiptoeing around him. He was snappish and short with his subordinates, which Seven already recognized to be very unlike him.

     “I don’t want the news played down here. Does everyone understand?” Geordie demanded. There were tense nods all around as people hurried to get back to whatever it was they were doing. Seven, however, watched Geordie directly, until he finally made eyes contact with her and scowled. “What?”

     “Is your bad mood a result of Lore’s actions or how he is now being treated?”

     “Good, God, Seven….” Geordie grumbled, “Being that direct all the time isn’t going to make you popular.”

     “I believe I am learned much about ‘being popular’ in this environment.” Seven tossed back. She shot a glance at the now dark screen to emphasize her meaning.

     “You want an answer?” Geordie clenched his jaw, “I’m angry about both, and _that_ pisses me off. I should be angry that Dr. Warrick is dead, and instead I’m thinking about how wrong it is that they’re handing Lore to the Daystrom Institute like a field specimen. Yeah, I’m angry.”

     Seven considered this silently, “I see. So, believing that Lore is guilty, you are angry with yourself for having any sympathy for him now. In that case, I sincerely hope that I am never accused of murder. People maybe become angry with me and then they could do with me what they wish.”

     Geordie gave a look like daggers, “You think I don’t see the implications in this? I have B-4 following me around like a puppy thinking he’s just another member of the crew, and I am just _waiting_ for the moment when I have to tell him he’s just a thing to Starfleet.” He drew a deep breath and forced his eyes on the screen beneath him. When he spoke next, he was thinking out loud, “They would never have done this if Data was still alive. Whatever they do to Lore would have to apply to him, and they never would have done it. I wonder if Lore even knows how much protection he got from Data just because of that.”

     “It is interesting.” Seven replied.

     “That’s not the word I would use.” Geordie snarled.

     “I am not referring to the manner in which the authorities are dealing with this. I’m referring the murder itself.” Seven waited for a fervent objection, but was somewhat surprised when all she got was a curious frown.

     “I haven’t known you very long, Seven, but I think that when you say ‘interesting’, you don’t mean it in a philosophical sense. What are you talking about?

     Seven glanced down at the table. For a brief moment, she was uncertain if she should voice what she had been thinking for much of the past hour. It had occurred to her that any statement that might be construed as a defense of Lore could land her in a very unfavorable predicament. She, after all, was nearly as unpopular as he was. Still, Seven was the not the type to give concern to such matters. She stepped forward, “I believe that this crime does not match Lore.”

     “Match?” Geordie stood up straight, “What does that mean?”

     “To be blunt, Commander, I believe Lore is too intelligent to have committed this crime.” She said, “The circumstantial evidence doesn’t make sense.”

     A look passed over Geordie’s face, something like worry, and he actually took a quick look around him before he came around the table and stood close to Seven. “From what I can tell the circumstantial evidence is the only thing that does make sense. Have you…been looking into this?”

     For the third time, she hesitated. Volunteering information about her private behavior was something Seven had learned to avoid since leaving _Voyager._ Still, she say nothing but sincere interest in Geordie’s eyes. She nodded, “Yes. But I have not had to ‘look into’ much beyond what is already being reported in the news. Lore committed this act, supposedly, in direct view of a surveillance camera, despite the fact that Dr. Warrick is very clearly seen on the footage just leaving the area of a junction room without camera. Why would Lore have waited for him to enter an area with a camera when he could have easily killed him in the other space?”

     A look of disappointment crossed Geordie’s face, and he sighed, “Seven…Lore thought the cameras weren’t working. The main computer was down, surveillance was down. Everyone knew that, and Lore…he just assumed those cameras were down with the rest of the surveillance system. And, by the way, how do you know the junction room was out of camera view?”

     Seven cocked her head, “I accessed the station computer this afternoon and studied the surveillance grid.”

     Geordie hissed a breath through his teeth. She didn’t, exactly, have clearance for that sort of thing.

     “And,” Seven continued, “I believe your assumptions about what Lore knew or did not know about the surveillance system are wrong. He knew.”

     Geordie took another look over his shoulder. He looked agitated now. “Seven, I’m not in the mood to make this an unnecessary back and forth. Tell me what you think. All of it.”

     Seven was not good at reading people. Captain Janeway had said it often, and B’Elanna Torres had screamed it on multiple occasions, but she could clearly see that Geordie was hopeful. He wasn’t laying it on thick, but it was there. She nodded and spoke quickly, “The only explanation for why Lore would kill Dr. Warrick in full view of a camera is that he assumed the camera was nonfunctioning. That is what General Cross has said and what the new media is reporting. Lore would only have assumed that if he did not know that the surveillance system in docking leg D was separate from the main system. I, however, believe that Lore knew precisely that. He _knew_ that the cameras in that section were slaved to their own system separate from the main computer.”

     She took another step forward and lowered her voice, “Lore must have known this, because he thwarted that very surveillance system four days ago when he first boarded the station. I took it upon myself to access those surveillance logs and Lore is nowhere on them. He knew the location of every blind spot in that network, and he managed to make it all the way to the promenade café before appearing on any surveillance. I find it interesting that no one has asked how Lore managed to make it from docking leg D, where he docked his vessel, all the way to the main promenade without being seen or recorded once.”

      Geordie’s shoulders sank as he released a breath he had been holding. His eyes fell on the table before him, “Oh, my God….He knew.”

     Seven nodded severely, “Yes. Unless Lore managed to ‘forget’ something that he must have known only four days ago. There are other possible explanation, but I seriously doubt Lore would commit this crime with the intention of being caught, which automatically rules out one possibility.”

     “And the others?” Geordie said wearily, “I can’t see any reason he would do this knowing the camera was working.”

     Seven shrugged, “The only other possible explanation would be that he was malfunctioning in such a way that his reasoning skills were impaired.”

     “No.” Geordie shook his head intently, “That makes no sense. Everything else— _if_ he did this—was so perfect. The timing, the decompression, the opportunity with the main computer being down. I can’t think of any malfunction that would explain him making such a _particular_ mistake.”

     Seven nodded once and made a small, wry smile. Her satisfaction was not philosophical or limited to her desire to solve puzzles. It was more than that. She was _pleased_ that Lore was innocent. She had wanted him to be innocent, and she _did believe_ he was innocent. Still, she was not certain if any of it would matter. This revelation was circumstantial and did nothing to refute the reality of the surveillance footage. People would believe their eyes, even if what they were seeing was a ninety-nine-point-nine percent improbability. Seven glanced at Geordie, allowed her smile to fade. He must have immediately understood her thoughts, for his shoulders fell again.

     He shook his head, “I didn’t find anything wrong with that footage, Seven. Nothing. And the best people have looked at it.”

     She nodded. She knew that just as well as he did, and it sent an angry twinge up her back. “I know. I…I can’t explain it.”

     “Yeah, well…unless someone does, and soon, there isn’t going to be any point.” He clenched his jaw, “I don’t think Bruce Maddox will waste a minute as soon as he gets what he wants.”

     There was a long silence that followed, mostly because neither one of them wanted to make statements of hopelessness and—in some deep, unspoken fashion—they each had to accept the remote possibility that they were wrong. There could have been circumstances completely unknown to them that perfectly explained everything, that made Lore guilty as sin.

     _He did not have to help me. He gained nothing from it._ Seven dismissed the thought as quickly as she could. She told herself that it had no bearing, that Lore’s agreement to save her life with his knowledge was not at all what had influenced her to pursue this. It wasn’t. Really.

     Seven watched as Geordie reluctantly returned to the other side of the table and once again began looking over the daily schedule. Or, at least she thought that was what he was doing.

     “What are you doing?” She asked.

     “I’m sending a message to Captain Picard. He’s already doing everything he can, but…but maybe this could at least buy time.”

     “Buy time for what?” Seven asked.

     He stopped and looked at her, a strange guilty look on his face, “For someone smarter than me to figure out how the hell that footage was faked.”

    

    

    


	47. Chapter 47

 

**_“Be_ very _careful, Lieutenant.”_**

20:04 HOURS AFTER ARREST

     Anna awoke with a violent start as her head rolled off her arm and onto the desk. She lifted her eyes and searched for a clock. The display rolled over to 04:08 and she gasped. How could she have fallen asleep! She sat up and winced at the pain in her side. It was always like this after the organ growth stimulant had worn off, like crashing after a sugar high. The screen before her had gone dark, and she brought it back to life with a swipe of her finger. A series of scrolling banners and boxes represented the Federation News Network wire feed. There was nothing new. No notice of Lore being moved. No update about the Federation court’s review of his status. Nothing. She switched over to the Terrain Daily Press and scanned around. It was the same, just the same footage playing over and over, the same circumstantial assertions of Lore’s ‘plan’ to commit the murder.

     She pushed back her chair and stood, fighting a wave of dizziness. The news was not going to tell her anything until it was too late, but for the life of her she could not think of what else to do when she arrived at her quarters. Who could she see, talk to? She was in the thick of it, and she needed to talk to Captain Picard to see when they were planning to—.

     The screen flashed a silver and blue graphic: LIVE NEWS UPDATE. She activated the audio and leaned over the table with shacking arms. _Oh, no. Please, no, don’t say they took him already._

A news anchor in a severe dark suit appeared on the screen as Anna slowly sank back into her chair.

     “This is just in through our FNN correspondents on dry dock station three. Initial reports indicate that there may now be reason to believe that Lore Soong, the android that caused the death of Doctor Owen Warrick, was far more familiar with the station’s surveillance system than previously believed. Viewers will remember that one of the primary explanations for the existence of the horrible footage you have seen here is that the android was unaware that the surveillance cameras were still in operation. Our field correspondent, Morgan Loss, explains.”

     The image swirled around in a quick silver and blue graphic to reveal a new scene. This time a woman, also clothed in a severe suit, stood at the edge of the upper deck railing overlooking the station promenade. She held a large data pad in her hands, but looked directed at the camera.

      “That’s right, John. If you’ll remember, legal experts began questioning the logic of this case the moment its particulars were made public. The question was raised, Why would Lore, who by all accounts in remarkably intelligent, commit a murder in plain view of a camera?”

     Anna’s jaw fell open. People had been raising questions? People…weren’t sure he did it?

     “…immediately suggested a possible explanation was that Lore was unaware that those particular cameras operated on a different system. However, I have information given to me by a confidential source suggesting Lore was not only familiar with the station’s security system, he was in fact an expert.” She raised her data pad meaningfully, “I have here the station surveillance files from five days ago, when Lore initially appeared on the station, and he does not appear in _any_ frame of surveillance footage until he enters the promenade. Now, my sources tell me, John, that this could only mean that Lore had already completely familiarized himself with the station’s security and surveillance systems.”

     The studio anchor reappeared on a split screen with the field correspondent. He nodded thoughtfully, “This certainly raises interesting questions about the android's 'state of mind', so called, when Dr. Warrick was attacked. Do your sources offer any hypotheses?”

      The field correspondent shifted her eyes in a very quick, uncomfortable way, then nodded, “They do, John. In fact, my sources suggest…quite forcefully…that this could indicate that Lore is not guilty.”

     Anna leapt to her feet and pressed both hands over her mouth. Sources? What sources? Who would have provided this information?

     _Geordie! Captain Picard!_ She laughed through her fingers, an exhausted and giddy sound, but she refused to let her hope and joy get too far. This was something, _something_ to suggest that the crime just didn’t fit, but so what? How much would people care about improbabilities when they had a supposedly perfect surveillance file showing them the act itself? Still, it served to pull her up from the miserable slide she had been on the moment she learned that Lore would not be getting a trial. But, with the evidence as it was right now, a trial would not have made much difference.

     She had to see him. She had to! Even if only for a moment!

     Still wearing the dark blue dress she had donned when returning to the station, she rushed to the bathroom and splashed cool water on her face. She had not the time or the motivation to change. As she came back into the room she looked quickly to the narrow bed across the way. It had only just occurred to her in that moment that her roommate might be trying to sleep, but the bed was empty. Anna was not surprised. Jasmine was probably trying to avoid her, or give her space, just like everyone else.

     The corridors were nearly void of people as she made a quick pace toward the turbo lift and the airlock corridor above. Those she did pass looked at her apprehensively, as if trying to figure out what she was doing and where she was going. Anna, so unlike her usual self, did not make hellos or even make eye contact. Her mind was too focused and yet too chaotic. What was she going to do? That question had more layers to it than she could tolerate. Not only was she unsure of what she was going to do to help Lore, but she had no idea what she was going to do if she couldn’t. What if Maddox got what he wanted and…and….

She grinded her teeth and shook it all away. Everything would be fine. She was sure of it. Captain Picard would do something, or Geordie would somehow discover how the surveillance footage had been forged. Something.

     She entered the promenade and turned immediate to the left, hugging the wall until she entered another corridor and headed in the direction of the security headquarters. Up ahead, she heard voices and saw lights roving over the walls. She leaned her head around the corner and immediately pulled it back when she saw the woman she had just seen in the news broadcast, the field correspondent for FNN. Quickly, she doubled back down the corridor and took the first turn that would take her around to the other entrance. There was no one up ahead.

     She drew a deep, calming breath. She had to look professional, level headed…. _As if it would make a difference._ She entered the room and took a few steps in. Two guards stood from behind a watch desk, their attention instantly fixed on her. They shot each other concerned looks.

     They knew who she was.

     “I, um….” She took another step forward, “I would like to see him.”

     The Starfleet guard, a lieutenant whom Anna recognized but did not know, moved around the counter. “I’m sorry. No one is allowed to see the prisoner. It’s a security risk.”

     “But, isn’t he unconscious?” Anna said, still trying to sound calm. “That can’t be very much of a security risk.”

     The Lieutenant looked over his shoulder at the THD guard, who made no expression. He shook his head, “I don’t think so. The guard Captain was pretty explicit. Maybe if you talk to him—.”

      “Please.” Anna said. Her eyes closed with the word, “Prisoners are supposed to be allowed visitors. This is wrong.”

      When she opened her eyes, she was surprised. The man, probably only in his late twenties, frowned guiltily and rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced at the large double doors to his left. “Ah, damn….Okay.”

      The THD guard scowled, “You can’t do that. We have direct orders.”

      “Yeah?” The Lieutenant said, “And since when are prisoners denied visitation for no given reason? What’s going on with that?”

      Anna fought the sad smile that came to her lips. At least some people weren’t so ready to just throw out their principles. She waited with her fingers clasped in front of her as the guard gave another challenging look to his companion and led her to the double doors. He entered his code and the doors hissed open. Anna entered quickly and almost ran to the far cell. She saw what she had expected to see, but that did not make it any easier.  

     Lore lay on the bunk against the back wall, his arms loosely laid at his sides with the palms up. His eyes were closed, but not in a soft way, not like sleeping. They were clenched, frozen in the last moments of pain before he was rendered unconscious. Her heart sank, and the only thing that kept the tears from falling down her face was the guard watching her from only a few yards away.

     She stepped close to the force field. The guard shifted his weight nervously.

     “I’m sorry.” Anna muttered. She took a step back. She stood and watched Lore for a long time, not knowing why or how she thought this would help with anything. But, it did help her. At least, for now, she knew he was all right. At least, for this moment, it wasn’t getting any worse.

     “Captain….”

     Anna turned as she heard the sound of the THD guard’s voice travel from the other room. He was saying something, too lower for her to hear, and another man was responding. The Lieutenant looked back into the room and immediately stiffened into a more professional posture. He shot Anna a quick, apologetic look, and came to attention.

     “Captain.” The Lieutenant said.

     “Please, Lieutenant.” Came a deep, chuckling voice, “I prefer to be called Doctor, and I don’t stand for ceremony anyway—.” Bruce Maddox came to a quick stop and all joviality left his face. He met Anna’s eyes and, for a brief moment, seemed to bore right into them.

     “Huh.” Maddox clasped his hands behind his back and forced a smile, “Lt. Hall. I wasn’t aware that General Cross had lifted his no visitors order.”

      “I don’t think he has.” She said slowly. “Which makes me wonder what you’re doing here, Doctor. I didn’t know you had an interest in the legal system.”

     Maddox smiled, but it was so tense and artificial his jaw must have popped. “I’m just here to assist General Cross in housing his prisoner. I need to conduct a few quick scans to make sure Lore is still in good operational order. It isn’t humane to allow prisoners to remain potentially injured while in custody.”

     _Humane. You son of a bitch…._ “You mean you want to make sure you didn’t damage him while you were torturing him?”

     If she expected a reaction, some outburst, she didn’t get it. Maddox remained perfectly still for a few seconds, then turned and gave a casual smile to the guard. “You don’t need to remain. We’re fine.”

     Anna took a step back and felt her heart hiccup in her chest. The guard didn’t even hesitate before he left the room and closed the large double doors behind him. They hissed and clamped together with a thud. Still, she did not look away from him. 

     Maddox walked toward her directly. She stayed her ground as long as she could bear, but faltered back a few steps once he was close. He stopped, gave her another long look, then removed a tricorder from his belt and held it close to the forcefield. He looked at the display and frowned.

     “I think you need to cure yourself of some delusions, Hall.” Maddox's voice was barely audible. “I could no more torture Lore than I could torture a hologram. And in so many ways, holograms are more convincing.” A bizarre smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth suddenly, then faded.

     “You know that’s not true.” She said in a harsh whisper. Her heart was really pounding now. “You know them—Lore, B-4—better than anyone. You know what they can feel.”

     Maddox sighed heavily and lowered his tricorder, “No. I know what they are programmed to _pretend_ to feel. You see, Dr. Soong was very smart. He knew that a machine capable of thinking and working in a superior manner to humans would be a magnate for envy and distrust. So, he had to give humans a reason to want to keep them around, to _want_ to protect them. So, he made them sympathetic. Gave them the ability to, eh, play human well enough to make us empathize. You’re far less likely to discard something that seems so human.”

     “You’re wrong.” It sounded so pathetic, but she didn’t know what else to say. No. She knew what she wanted to say, but his proximity and the fact that they were alone made her afraid to utter it.

     “Really?” Maddox sneered. “Tell me, which of your childhood toys did you keep the longest because you couldn't bare to see them discarded? Your building blocks, or your dolls? There’s a reason I never went into psychology as a profession; it’s too easy.” He raised a tricorder again and appeared to making compensations for the force field interference.

     “You….” Anna’s voice broke. She stared up at Maddox and felt a mix of hatred and fear she had not felt in a very long time. It was the same way she had felt near Narok Reed. No. That was wrong. At least Reed had had his own demons to fight, his grief pushing into madness. Maddox had no grief, only ambition.

Her breath rushed out her as her voice cracked, “You did this! I don’t know how, but you did, and I’m going to find out and make sure you—ah!”

     Maddox reached her with a speed he hardly looked capable of. He pressed his hand over her mouth and drove her back until she slammed into the wall. Anna gasped and tried to scream, but she doubted she would be heard beyond the massive door even if his hand wasn’t silencing her. Maddox leaned down close, so close that his nose almost touched hers.

     “Be _very_ careful, Lieutenant.” He hissed. Anna tried to press against him, but he grabbed one of her wrists and squeezed, “I’m not going to let anything get in my way. Do you understand me? This is my life, my _entire_ life, and if you think I’m going to let it slip through my fingers now, you have another thing coming. Nothing is going to stop my work; not your friends, not your Captain, and certainly not a dysfunctional little pervert like you.”

      Rage like she had never known filled her, crawling over skin like boiling water. _I hate you. I hate you!_

     Maddox sneered and almost laughed, “What? Does that surprise you, Hall? You’re romantically involved with a machine, a _device._ What word should I use to describe you? At least people who fuck holograms keep it on the holodeck” With that, he dropped his hands and stepped back.

     Anna trembled but didn’t run or scream. Somehow, deep down, she knew it wouldn’t matter because….Was that how people saw her? Was that what people thought? If it was, nothing she said or did would matter. She could go screaming from the room, crying that Bruce Maddox had assaulted her, and it wouldn’t make one damn bit of difference. She was insane. She was the one with ‘questionable judgment’. She was the one in love with a _device._ Who would believe her?

     As if nothing had even happened, Maddox returned to his place near the force field and conducted his scans. Slowly, but with determination, Anna regained her posture and brushed her fingers over her hurting mouth. If she had had any doubts at all—any—they were gone now. The man standing only a few yards away from her had murdered Owen and had managed to make the world believe Lore did it. Worse than that, she believed every word he had said to her. Nothing was going to get in his way. Bruce Maddox was insane.

    Anna moved as far from Maddox and the cells as she could, hugging the wall as she went toward the door. Before she moved out of view, she cast another look at Lore’s still form. She was alive because of him. Three times over, he had saved her life and almost given his own life for the _Enterprise_ and a crew that mostly despised him. He wasn’t just a good enough person. He was the best person she knew.

    _I’m not going to let this happen, Lore. I promise._

As Anna fled from the room, ignoring the looks from the two guards, she began to plan.

 

    


	48. Chapter 48

**_“I love your logic, Bee.”_ **

21:00 HOURS AFTER ARREST

     Jean-Luc Picard glared at the screen before him with unmasked distain. It was happening, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. Even if he had not burnt his bridge with Admiral Roth, it wouldn’t have made much difference. In a closed emergency meeting of the high court, which had taken place at astounding speed, arguments had been given about Lore’s so-called ‘obvious malfunctions’, and how the murder of Owen Warrick demonstrated ‘definitive proof’ that further research was needed with regard to Lore.

     In that respect, Picard found himself in the bizarre scenario of defending Lore based on the very assumption of guilt. The court seemed to be suggesting that violence, murder, was a sure indication that Lore was ‘malfunctioning’. They seemed either incapable or unwilling to accept that totally rational, level thinking people committed murder all the time. If that were not the case, every murder trial would end in a verdict not guilty by reason of insanity!

     He pushed the desktop screen away and tented his fingers in front of him. The best he could do was try to see that Lore got a trial and was found guilty in the same manner with which any human would be tried and found guilty with the same evidence, for there was one thing Picard could not bring himself to reject. The evidence. It was overwhelming, and despite the very intriguing facts that Geordie had just recently brought to his attention, he still saw no other explanation.

    If the footage was manufactured, than it was the most ingenious computer manipulation he had ever seen.

    The door chime sounded, and Picard looked up in aggravation. A Captain aboard a docked vessel had practically nothing to do, but _now_ someone wanted to see him. He sighed and called, “Enter.”

     Deanna Troi entered slowly from the dark bridge. There was still damage from the collision with the _Scimitar_ , and the bridge remained a sparsely lit, dead space. “Captain.” Troi said, nodding, “Is now a bad time?”

     “Not at all, Counselor, please.” Picard rose and indicated the sofa across the way, which had only been replaced and installed yesterday. He retrieved a mug of tea from the replicator, asked Troi if she would like anything, and joined her when she said no. “What can I do for you?”

     He asked the question despite there being only one thing on everyone’s minds.

     Troi sighed heavily, “Actually…there’s something that’s been troubling me. Two things, in fact.”

     He waited, nodding.

     “I was with Lore yesterday morning, just before he left for Earth.” Troi began.

     “You were?” Picard sat up, surprised. She had not mentioned this before.

     She nodded seriously, “I went there to…huh…to _lecture_ him on his behavior on the promenade the day before. I’ve had time to think about that meeting since. I sensed regret, more like embarrassment. I sensed an entire range of emotions; hope, anxiety about going to Earth, irritation, but….” She sighed and shook her head, as if she were about to say something subversive, “I did _not_ feel like I was in the presence of someone who had just committed a murder hours before and was covering it up. Lore can hardly control his outward shows of emotion, let alone his inner responses.”

     Picard sat up straight and set the cup down on the table. “Counselor, what are you saying?”

     “I’m saying that…. That I don’t think Lore is guilty.” She apparently saw the shock that came over his face, for she immediately continued, “I know what the evidence says, Captain, and I know how perfectly convincing it is, but it doesn’t change the fact that Lore cannot help wearing his heart on his sleeve, and that has gotten worse since his reactivation.  I saw _nothing_ that told me he had just killed a person.”

     Picard stood and made a slow walk toward the window near his next. In the years they had served together, he had never known Deanna Troi to give firm sounding to her empathic abilities on a whim. In fact, she had been wrong on so few occasions that he began to feel his firm belief in Lore’s guilt wavering.

    Still, he shook his head. “Is it possible that Lore was simply…unconcerned with what he had done? Would he be thinking about it, experiencing emotions with regard to it, if he had already dismissed it?”

      “No. And even if that were the case, I mentioned Dr. Warrick several times. I went there to discuss what happened on the promenade. I find it…impossible to believe that we would actually speak about Dr. Warrick and Lore would express nothing with regard to having just killed him. No one has that kind of emotional control, Captain. Not even Lore.”

     It was as he had thought, and Picard could feel a mild sick feeling entered his stomach. How could this be? Was it even possible? He looked at her again, “You said there were two things troubling you. What else?”

     Here, Troi sat up straight and her concerned look turned sour. “I believe Captain Maddox is tracking me.”

     _What?_ “Tracking you?” He took a step forward, “How do you mean?”

     “I tried earlier today to speak with him. I wanted to tell him some of what I just told you, but….Captain, he’s clearly avoiding me. Whenever I ask the main computer for his location, I go there and he has only just left. Three times so far; the café, the holo-engineering lab, and just an hour ago in station security.”

     “Have you tried contacting him directly?”

     “Yes. Twice, and each time he told me he was too busy and would get back to me later. He ended the conversations as quickly as possible.”

     “Could you sense anything?” He was getting worried now. And suspicious.

     She shook her head, “Not much from such a short exchange, but I definitely sensed fear."

     "Fear?"

     "Yes, directly toward me. He'd terrified of being anywhere near me. It's so strong, in fact, that it's burying everything else I should have been able to read, despite only talking to him over the comms. He's hiding something." 

     Finally, she had come out and said it. But, hiding what? As Picard considered, the list of possible things Bruce Maddox would want to hide was too long. It could simply be that Maddox did not believe his own assertions about Lore’s so-called malfunctions. Being in proximity to Troi would out him as lying in that regard, no doubt simply with the aim of getting custody of Lore by any possible means. People might begin to question Maddox’s ‘expert’ testimony if it was suggested he didn’t believe his own words. Still, as logical as that sounded, something weighed on Picard’s conscience now, and he was loath to give voice to it.

     “Thank you, Counselor. I’ll take all of this into advisement.”

     Troi stood and drew a heavy breath. Such words from any other Captain might sound like a brush off, but she knew better. When Captain Picard said ‘advisement’, he meant serious thought. She nodded and headed for the door. Before she left she turned back.

     “Do you know what’s going to happen yet? How long Lore will stay on the station?”

     Picard faced her and she saw the answer before he even spoke. He grinded his teeth before he said, “Admiral Roth released Lore into the custody of the Daystrom Institute less than an hour ago. If they’re not moving him now, they will be soon.”

     “This is all moving so fast.” Troi sighed.

     “Yes. It begs a lot of questions.” With that, Picard turned his face back toward the window and scowled at the stars beyond. Troi nodded to his turned back and left the room.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

21:15 HOURS AFTER ARREST

 

     Anna walked into sickbay with a slow, exhausted stride. She really was tired enough that she felt close to passing out, so increasing that illusion with a little acting was not difficult. She looked around the room and was pleased to see no other patients or nursing staff. She moved immediately toward the bio-bed closest to the office door. The rolling cart where Dr. Crusher kept some of the current patient medications was there, as Anna knew it would be. She reached for it, but immediately drew her hand back when she heard the office door open.

     _Damn._

Crusher stopped short and gave Anna concerned look, “Anna? You feeling okay?”

     “Um…actually, no.” She shook her head and tried to keep her breathing steady, although ragged breathing would probably help her little farce at the moment. “I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I’ve tried. Do you think you could give me something to take later?”

     Crusher smiled in an understanding way and nodded, “Sure. Just let me get a hypospray for you to take with you.” She turned and disappeared back into the office.

     As quickly as she could, but still remaining quiet, Anna opened the cabinet on the roll around cart and searched for the cherry red concoction she had become so familiar with. Looking up sharply toward the office, she hurried. Finally, in the back, she saw a small box bearing her name. She popped it open without removing it from the cart and pulled three vials of the organ growth stimulant from their foam holders. Cupping the vials in her closed hand, she shut the cabinet door just as Crusher emerged from the office. Quickly, she made a show of bumping into the cart, thus snapping the door shut.

     “Here we are.” Crusher said, holding up a hypospray.

     Anna casually slid her hand into her skirt pocket while taking the hypospray with her other. It already contained a blue vial filled with a sleep aid. “Thanks.” She mumbled.

     “Anna,” Crusher said, her voice low, “Listen, about what you said on the promenade about Maddox….”

     “I was out of line. I’m sorry.” Anna said quickly. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to maintain eye contact. This was going to be harder than she thought, but she had to do it. Somehow, she had to make it all work.

     Crusher shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. I had no business snapping at you like that, I just don’t want to see you do anything that could damage your career. Suggesting that someone would do something like that with no proof? That could get you court-martialed.”

     _It doesn’t matter now._ As Anna considered how little Crusher’s statement actually concerned her, she almost smiled. _It never mattered._ “I know. It was stupid, and…and it’s just because I don’t like him and I hate how he’s taking advantage of all this.”

     “I know.” Crusher nodded, and Anna saw agreement on her porcelain face, even if she wouldn’t say it. “Anna, you do believe me, that I don’t hate Lore. Right?”

     “Even though you think he killed Owen?” Anna said suddenly. She reprimanded herself with a gasp. She hadn’t come there to converse, and she needed to leave soon. There were so many things to do, so many things she had not yet figured out. What she was doing, what she was planning, was so far beyond her scope of experience that taking it all in made her mildly ill.

     _Suck it up, Hall._

     Crusher grimaced, but also nodded, "I don’t know about that yet. All I do know is that I forgave Lore a long time ago. I didn’t hate him, and now…. I don’t know about now. Especially….”

     “Especially what?” Anna pressed. It didn’t matter, none of it did, and yet she desperately wanted to hear some encouragement from her friend.

     “Especially now, after seeing the news earlier today.” She was shaking her head, “All this talk about the surveillance system and how he must have known about it.”

     “It’s not making sense.” Anna offered. Anna’s heart leapt at Crusher’s sudden uncertainty, but she had to leave it there. If she let herself get much more hopeful, she might reveal something she was planning, and she simply couldn’t do that. There wasn’t enough time to bring Crusher or anyone else on board.

     And she didn't have time to trust anyone but herself.

     “Thank you for the sleep aid. I have to go.” Anna could see that Crusher was still concerned, but she appeased her a smile and a few quick nods. She released a pent up breath the moment she was alone in the outside corridor. It was just the first step in many, but she had managed it. As she slipped her hand in her pocket and felt the cold glass vials slide over each other, a rush of exhilaration and certainty washed over her. She could do this. She _was_ doing this.

     She strode into the promenade and crossed toward the turbo lift.  Once again she mentally went over the timing, the setups, the contingencies. As a child, Anna had always been the one to plan her and Amy’s troublesome childhood deeds. She had been the one to think of unlocking the front door _before_ going to bed the night they decided to sneak out and go to an older kid’s party. The damn lock was so loud. Even earlier than that, she was the one who hid a change of Halloween costume in the bushes ahead of time so  she could change and trick their Mom into thinking she was another kid for the whole night.

     But this wasn’t a prank, and it wasn’t going to be _fun._

     She reached the turbo lift and waited for it to arrive. As soon as it did, she stepped in while barely acknowledging the two officers already inside. It was a man and woman, both Ensigns, and probably attached to the station since she did not recognize them. Anna instructed the lift to take her to deck four, where she planned on going back to the _Enterprise_ through the much less used secondary airlock. So focused was she on her thoughts, that she did not note the whispering behind her until it was midsentence.

     “…got Dr. Warrick killed.” The woman whispered.

     Anna looked up at the door and felt her shoulders tense, but not with shame. Oh, no. The time for shame, the time for caring about what these damn bigots thought of her, was over.

     “…have known how dangerous he was.” The man muttered back. The woman responded with some kind of disapproving snort, which the man must have responded to with a nod.

     Anna took a step closer to the door, waiting. Her deck was arriving any moment. So she had gotten Owen killed, huh? She should have known how dangerous Lore was, right? The moment the doors opened, Anna stepped halfway through them and spun around. She held the door open with one hand while she reached around to the wall panel with the other.

     The two Ensigns looked at her, a mix of shock and confusion.

     “Do either of you have level two clearance to run emergency engineering tests?”

     The two exchanged wide eyed glances. The woman scowled, “Um…no.”

     “Good.” Anna said. She ran her fingers over the panel quickly, waited a second for the prompt, than confirmed. “I hope you two like each other’s company. You’re going to be in here for a while.”

     “What—?” The man’s angry demand was cut off as Anna stepped back and allowed the doors to close. She heard a single thud of complaint before the lift descended toward the bottom levels, where it would shift between decks in sudden starts and stops for the next hour.

     Anna grinned and allowed herself a unique moment of pure guilty satisfaction. As she headed toward the airlock and the tasks she still had to perform, she finally began to appreciate Lore’s methods.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

23:38 HOURS AFTER ARREST

 

     B-4 was capable of sharp focus when he had to be. When it was very, very important, he could exhibit a kind of single minded intensity that was almost frightening, and Data had already told him how terrible important this was. Yes, he understood. This was _very_ important. It was very important that he watch the images on the screen again.

     And again, and again, and again….

     For the one-hundredth-and-thirty-second time, the footage of Lore breaking Dr. Warrick’s neck played on the screen in B-4’s quarters. This time, Data had instructed him to begin the playback thirty minutes before Dr. Warrick’s entry. He had told him to watch the screen carefully, examine it for signs of breakage, points where the lines of the corridor broke or did not match, if even for a fraction of a second. Thus far, he had seen no such thing, and neither had Data.

     “Does this mean it is real?”

     There was no reply from Data, but B-4 knew he was still there. He continued to watch and examine. At first he had been certain he understood, but Data had explained to him that Lore was in a lot of trouble, and if they did not find some way to prove the footage wasn’t real, Lore would be…hurt. No. That wasn’t what Data said. He said they would kill Lore.

     “I do not want Lore to die.”

     _You need to focus, Bee._

He nodded and continued to stare at the screen. He was not always certain what he was looking for, but Data could see what he saw, and he knew his brother would inform him the moment something important happened.

     B-4’s concentration was dashed with the sound of the door chime. He bolted to his feet, feeling panicked for reasons he was not sure of. “What do I do?”

     _Calm down. It is fine. Deactivate the screen and answer the door._

B-4 nodded. That was right. He was being silly. When the door chimed, you were supposed to answer it. He deactivated the computer screen and went to the door. When he opened it, his expression flooded with happiness.

     “Hello, Anna! I am glad to see you!”

     Anna made a tense smile, though B-4 did not pick up on that. She glanced down the corridor, “Can I come in, Bee?”

     “Yes.” B-4 stepped back as Anna came into the room. He immediately thought of all the reasons Anna had ever come to see him at his quarters, and he said, “I cannot go to the holodeck or the arboretum now, Anna. I am busy.”

     Anna laughed, a little, and shook her head, “Eh…that’s fine, Bee. I’m not here for that. I have a favor to ask of you.”

     He smiled, nodded, and waited.

     Anna reached into the pocket of the dark brown leather jacket she now wore and produced a tiny data pad, no more than a memory storage really. She held it out for B-4. He took it.

     “Bee, I want you to hold on to this for me. There’s…something I need to do, and after that I want you to give this to Captain Picard.”

     B-4 looked at the little pad with confusion, “Okay. What are you doing?”

     Anna shook her head, “That doesn’t matter. I just need you to give this to Captain Picard in….” She sighed and looked at the deck, “In twenty-four hours, unless I come back and tell you otherwise. Okay?”

     B-4 nodded. Anna was a good friend. You were supposed to do things for friends.

     _Why can she not give it to Captain Picard herself?_

“Why can you not give this to Captain Picard yourself?” B-4 said.

     Anna’s eyes widened for a just a moment, “Um…because I won’t be able to. I won’t be here.”

     _Where is she going?_

B-4 dutifully repeated the question.

     Anna frowned and tilted her head slightly, “Bee, you…you have changed so much since we found you. Are you aware of that? How far you’ve come?”

     He understood her questions, but was not certain of his answer. Was he very different? He was not certain if he could ‘remember’ being different. He shook his head, “I do not know.”

     “Well, I know. You are.” She sighed heavily again and forced a smile. Suddenly, she took a step toward him and her expression became serious, “Do you know what a secret is, Bee? Can you keep secrets?”

     B-4 almost smiled. Yes, he had come a long way. He could almost grasp irony. “Yes.” 

     “I’m going to do something very soon to help Lore, so I don’t want you to worry. I’m not going to let anyone hurt him, but…but you might not be able to see him again. _Might._ I don’t know.”

     B-4 frowned. He wanted to see Lore again, but he also did not want Lore to be hurt. Could he not have both? “If you are going to help Lore, why can I not see him again?”

     Anna squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, “I don’t want to tell you too much. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

     B-4 hesitated. He did not know what to say and Data was not helping him. He decided to venture himself, “Trouble? Are you going to do something bad?”

     “According to some,” Anna muttered. “I’m doing what I have to do. What they’re doing to Lore is wrong. You…you know all about it, Bee? Did Geordie or Counselor Troi talk to you about it?”

     “Geordie told me that Lore murdered Dr. Warrick.”

     “That’s not true!” Anna burst. She quickly calmed herself though, “I’m sorry, Bee. Geordie and everyone else have a very good reason to think that. You can’t blame them…too much, but it’s not true. Lore wouldn’t do that.”

     B-4 nodded, “Yes. I know.”

     “You…know?” Anna was obviously surprised.

     “Yes.” He replied eagerly, “Lore is not bad anymore, so he could not have done something bad.”

     She wiped at her eyes suddenly and made a strange, bitter sort of laugh, “I love your logic, Bee. Don’t change it.”

     _Offer to help her._

“Do you want me to help you?” He asked. This time, he did not follow the instruction as a mere matter of course. He wanted to help Lore too.

     “No.” Anna shook her head, “You can’t have anything to do with this. I won’t put you at risk.”

     B-4’s gaze fell, dejected, “Okay.”

     _Do not worry, Bee. We are trying to help in a different way._

     He beamed suddenly, “That is okay, Anna. We are helping too!”

     _No, Bee!_

“We?” Anna’s eyes widened, “Who are you talking about?”

     B-4 gasped and stepped back. The situation could easily be salvaged, but he was panicking too much to see it. Oh, what had he done? Why did he say that?

     “I…I….No.” B-4 was shaking his head with wide, worried eyes. “I…I did not mean to….”

     “Calm down.” Anna said quickly, placing a hand on his arm, “It was just a language mistake, Bee. There’s no reason to get so worked up.”

     He nodded as his panic did indeed calm. Yes. A language mistake. That…worked. People thought he made language mistakes. “Okay. I am sorry.”

     Anna gave him a long, questioning look, but soon shook it away. “I have to go. There’s no reason you should be in any danger. Maddox doesn’t want you.”

     “I am rudimentary.” B-4 said, finishing her sentence.

     She frowned, “According to _him_ , but I consider that a blessing at the moment. He doesn’t have any interest in you and so…so you’re better off here with Geordie and Captain Picard. I’m sorry, Bee. I’ll miss you, and I know Lore will.”

     Now he understood. Before, he had not been certain, for he was sometimes not able to ‘fill in the blanks’ when people did not say things outright. But, now he knew. Anna was going away, and Lore was going with her. It made him sad.

     _Tell her to wait. You have something for her._

     “Anna, wait. I have something for you.” B-4 moved back to the desk on the other side of the room and sat. Following Data’s exact instructions, he created a short be very detailed message and loaded it onto a small green data chip. He removed it from the desk top and held it out for Anna.

     She stared at him, confusion and surprise easily mixing on her face, “What is this?”

     Once again, B-4 relayed Data’s instruction, “Will you give this to Lore for me?”

     She stared down at it, “Of course. Is it a goodbye, Bee?”

     “No.” He replied, “It is an explanation.”

    “What?”

     B-4 was not accustomed to being cryptic, but he also did not wish to lie. “Lore will understand. Please give it to him after both of you leave.”

     “I will.” She said, despite the questions obviously playing in her mind.

     “Please wait until after you have left. Do you promise?”

     “What’s going on, Bee?” Anna pressed.

     “Please, Anna. Lore will understand.”

     She released a sharp sigh, “All right. I promise. I…I really do have to go now. I’m running out of time.”

     “Okay.” He said. He felt better now, much better, and it showed in his sudden renewed easiness. “Goodbye, Anna.”

     “Goodbye, Bee.”

     He smiled at her as she made a few furtive backward glances and disappeared into the corridor.

     _Everything is going to be fine, Bee._

“Yes.” He said, full voiced, “I know.”

 

 

 

 

      


	49. Chapter 49

 

**_“I thought you might say that.”_ **

24:10 HOURS AFTER ARREST

     The skills required to become a Starfleet engineer and attain the rank of Lieutenant are nothing if not daunting. So respected is the reputation of Starfleet engineering expertise that the Dominion made it a point to capture rather than kill engineers in the hopes of utilizing their talents. That being said, Anna didn't know everything, and she didn't have the time to learn either.

     Anna stepped into main engineering knowing that she was going to get noticed no matter what. Her civilian clothes did not help the matter as she passed through the main bay and toward the open lift at the back. She had already checked the main computer and knew where she could find the person she was looking for. She just wasn’t sure if anything after that would work.

     She had already spoken to Teni. She could rely on her.

     “Lieutenant.” Seven said upon seeing her. She expressed her surprise with a single raised eyebrow. “You are not on duty.”

     “No. I was looking for you, actually. I need your help with something.” Anna sighed. She was so damned tired, but she couldn’t use any of the stimulant she had taken from sickbay, not yet. She needed those for later.

     “Of course.” Seven replied as she stood to her full height and closed the low panel in which she had been working, “What do you require?”

     Anna drew a breath. This was it. This moment could make or break everything, but she had no other choice. She had spent the last hour trying to figure out another way. “I know the Borg have pattern enhancers that will allow a site to site transport to work through low level shielding. I need one.” 

     Seven's brows shot up. “You are aware that such technology is restricted by Federation law.”

     “Obviously. That’s why I’m asking you. I would have gotten it myself otherwise.”  She tried to gauge Seven's reaction beyond the slight look of surprise, but that was one hell of a poker face. She doubted the Voyager crew could read her any better. 

     “Why do you need this?” Seven asked. That was something. At least she had not issued an outright no.

     “Because I need to conduct a site to site transport through a damn shield, Seven.” Anna retorted. Damnit, her chest hurt. Everything hurt. 

     Seven appeared to look over Anna’s shoulder for a moment. They were on the second catwalk and there were no other crewmembers nearby. “Lieutenant, am I right in suspecting that you plan to use this technology to somehow extract Lore from custody?”

     _Well, shit..._ “If you aren’t going to help me, can you at least keep this to yourself? You owe him.”

     That statement did not appear to surprise Seven as much as it should have.  Finally, she said, “You are aware that the pattern enhancer must be physically placed on the person or object being transported? How are you planning to accomplish that?”

     Anna shook her head. “I don’t need help with that. I just need help with this. I would get it myself but, as you already said, that technology is restricted and I don’t have the time to hack into that database. I’m not sure if I even could.” Anna almost cringed. She had spent much of last night hacking into the Daystrom Institute database, which was much less secure, and what she had found there told her without a doubt that she was running out of time.

      Seven lowered her eyes for only a moment, then said, “I understand. It will take me some time to construct one enhancer. How many do you require?”

     Anna was a little shocked at the ease of her agreement, but said, “How much time do you need?”

     “It will take me at least six hours to construct one.” She sounded regretful.

     Anna shook her head. “Just the one, in that case.Thank you.”

     Seven nodded and moved to collect the tool kit she had left on the deck. As she did, Anna stepped closer. “Seven, why are you helping me?”

     “As you said, I owe him.”

     “Yeah, but….” Anna tossed up her hands. Why was she being so damn curious? Take the enhancer and run! “You think he murdered someone.”

     “No, I do not.” Seven said evenly. “Are you so certain that everyone believes Lore is guilty?”

     “Should I be? I mean, the footage was—.” Anna’s eyes widened as a thought suddenly occurred to her. It was too powerful to shake off. “You gave the old footage to the news media, didn’t you? The footage he wasn’t on, from days ago, that showed Lore knew all about the cameras? That was you.”

     “No.” Seven said flatly, although the corner of her mouth did turn up in a minor smile, “I gave those files to Commander LaForge, and _he_ gave them to the media.”

     Anna was speechless. She let her eyes drift to the floor. Seven and Geordie? Who else besides Teni? It didn’t matter. It might matter, in time, but Maddox wasn’t going to wait. She had to keep going. “Will the enhancer compensate for a dampening field too?”

     "I will see that it does."

     “Thank you, Seven. You have no idea.” She looked over her shoulder, “I don’t want to do anything to implicate you after all of this. Can you meet me in the airlock corridor at oh-one-thirty exactly? I’ll get the enhancer from you then.”

    Seven nodded.

    Sensing that Seven of Nine was not a big goodbye person even with people she knew well, Anna turned and prepared to leave. The solid certainty that had been holding her up for hours only increased now. This was going to happen. It was actually coming together, but there were so many steps that she could not plan ahead for, things she had to assume.

     _I can live with that._

     “Anna.” Seven said suddenly.

     She turned. Seven had never called her by her first name.

     “May I ask you a question?”

     Anna nodded.

     “Are you prepared to hurt people in order to free Lore? How far will you take this?”

     It wasn’t as if she had not thought about this already. She had. A lot. Anna turned up her chin and her back stiffened, “I think I’m planning this well enough that it won’t come to that, but if it does…there’s one person I’m willing to hurt.”

     Seven did not ask who. She did not need to. 

 

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33:15 HOURS AFTER ARREST

 

     So little time, so much to think about, and yet now she had to wait just a little bit more. She had to wait because she knew Bruce Maddox’s work schedule. It had been easy enough to locate in the Daystrom Institute database. Like many academics, he made his open door and lab hours public, but she would have managed to find out even if he didn’t. Just because she had spent her entire life following the rules did not mean Anna wasn’t resourceful.

      But time was growing short, and she had to spend it well. There was no telling when she would be back here again, if ever. She would live for hundreds of years—luck willing—but her parents and her sisters would not. Well, Beth would probably reach her second century.

     “You want some tea, Annie?” Louise asked from the doorway. The young woman was bundled up in a sweater, since their father had once again indulged in his love of keeping the windows open despite the cold.

     “No, thanks.” Anna muttered. She watched Louise disappear back into the kitchen. 

     She shifted her legs underneath her on the edge of the sofa where she was sitting and tried to get a better angle on the note before her. She was writing something out on a piece of cream colored paper, an old book serving as her writing surface. This was another thing she had to do. She couldn’t just disappear and have her family know nothing. She couldn’t do that to them, and this was the only way now. Maybe, once someone found a way to prove Lore’s innocence, she could come back.

     “Come on, Maggie. Not now.” Anna grumbled. The Basset Hound dog got a running start to hop onto the sofa before demanding her rightful place on Anna’s lap. The dog crawling in and collapses like a water buffalo against her chest.

     “I’m clearly trying to do something here, Magpie.” Anna huffed. She had always spoken to the dog as if it were a person who could understand her rhetorical questions. Like always, Maggie either didn’t understand or didn’t care. The dog flopped its head back and tried to press its wet nose to her face.

     “Yeah, I love you too, hound dog.” Anna pressed a kiss between the dog’s eyes, just as she had done since she was a puppy, and immediately decided that Louise needed to give _her_ dog a bath again. “Okay, now, come on.” Anna grunted as she hoisted the sixty pounds of lazy hound dog to the other side of the sofa.

     _I need to finish this._ She sat up and pressed her pen to the paper, writing out quickly in a stream of thought. There was little point in being eloquent.

     “You’re leaving soon, right?” Louise said. She was once again in the doorway. She had her arms folded over her chest and she looked miserable. “Ending your leave early?”

     “Why so glum?” Anna asked, smirking, “Logan Mills isn’t coming around later to make out?”

     Louise snarled, but only a little, “Nice try. I know you’re too miserable to make jokes, so don’t pretend.”

     It was true. She was trying to lighten the mood, but she might as well have been trying to light up a cave with a firefly. “Fine. Where’s Beth?”

     Louise sighed. “She had to leave, go back to her museum in Seattle. She…she couldn’t take it, you know?”

     “Yeah, I know.” Poor Beth. Intense emotions, especially anxiety, were like loud barbaric noise to her. Because of it she more often than not ran from tense situations, which got her the unfair reputation of being uncaring. But, it was all for the best. Considering what Anna was about to do, and how her emotions roiled with it, the last thing she needed was an empath at her side.

     “You know what? I actually would like some tea.” Anna said as she stood and folded the letter she had been writing. “The green macha. Do you mind?”

     Louise shrugged, “Naw. I got nothing else to do around here anyway. I'll whip up some of your fancy green soup tea.” She made a sour face, indicating her disfavor for the traditional Japanese tea.

     “You like it too. Admit it.” Anna teased. It was so forced, and she was thankful Beth was not around.

     “Whatever. Hold your horses.” Louise disappeared back into the kitchen and Anna headed immediately for the hall. She hated to do it this way, but any other was too risky. She quietly pulled her jacket from the hook in the hall and slipped into it. She had the letter still folded in her hand as she went into the large parlor where her piano stood. Her family had always loved antiques, and the study of history and old things was something Beth had taken to at a very young age. That was why most of the antiques in the room were actually hers, items on a constant rotation from the museum she curated in Seattle.

     Anna crossed the room and stood before the tall shelf near the fireplace. There was one antique in particular that Beth had acquired years ago and was not part of the museum group. For its rarity and craftsmanship, it was the prize of Beth’s personal collection. Its original historic purpose had little to no bearing on that place of pride. Anna took the little key from under the highest snow globe where Beth had always kept it, and unlocked the dark brown box before her. When she lifted the lid, she cringed.

     _You have to do this. You know you need an airtight backup plan._

She read the engraved brass placard on the lid's underside, polished to Beth's always high standards.

COLT & Co. Est. 1836

     “Hey! Annie! Where’s that bamboo whisk thing?” Louise called from the kitchen.

     Anna snatched the cold piece of metal from the box and shoved it into her jacket pocket, “Check the drawer where the oven mitts are!” She called back. She waited and, hearing no approaching footsteps, took the other small pieces of metal from their individual little places and dropped them into her pocket with the chip B-4 had given her. They rattled together like a bag of marbles.

     She placed the folded letter into the box but did not lock it. She put the key back where it was.

     “Okay, here’s your frothy green crap.” Louise said with a laugh as she came into the room. Even she was making an effort to lighten things, considering. “Hey, why do you have your jacket on?”

     Anna shrugged, “It’s freezing in here.”

     “Yeah. Dad and his damn fresh air.” Louise handed over the mug. “I’m going to get Paul to build a fire when they all get back."

     _When they all get back._ Anna felt her throat close up. She wanted to wait and see all of them. She wanted it so much, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle that. She had already spent the last two hours making lies of omission to her little sister. She couldn’t stand the web she would have to weave once her mother and father were back and began asking questions. Kind and worried, but still questions.

     “Sounds good.” Anna said, taking a long sip of the tea. Despite Louise’s disgust with it, she made it better than everyone else. “Thanks.”

     “Uh-huh. I’m going to get something _real_ to drink, like mocha with whip cream on top. Don’t tell Mom I’m using the replicator.”

     Anna snorted, “Don’t worry.”

     Louise disappeared back into the kitchen and Anna checked the time. 07:32. She ran her hand over the side of her jacket and, in addition to the newest acquisitions, she could feel the jagged little square of the Borg transport enhancer Seven had already given her. It was time. Her stomach was kicking acid up into her throat and a part of her--the dutiful Starfleet officer--screamed objections.

     _What are you doing? Are you mad? You’ll be ruined!_

She quietly set the teacup on the cloth covered top of her piano and moved toward the front door.

     _You’ll be a pariah! You’ll have to live the rest of your days as a fugitive! It’s not worth it!_

But it was worth it. Anna had very suddenly, and recently, learned that fact. What was everyone’s approval to her when it wasn’t the thing she wanted? She could have approval and be miserable, or she could be happy and….

     She tapped her combadge, “Hall to transporter control. One to beam up.”

     Anna disappeared from the front porch of her parent’s home just as Louise entered the parlor with a large, heavily whip-creamed cup in her hands.

     “Hey, Annie. Anna?” Louise looked around, “Maggie, have you seen Anna?”

     Apparently, Anna was not the only member of the Hall family accustomed to speaking to the dog.

 

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     Anna stepped off the transporter pad, gave a professional nod to the operator, and headed for her quarters. She glanced at the digital watch on her wrist and quickened her pace. Once in her quarters, she grabbed the bag she had already prepared and slung it over her shoulder. She had changed out of her dress hours ago. She now wore slim grey trousers, a white blouse, and the same dark brown leather jacket. The moderate heels of her brown boots thudded on the deck as she walked.

     Anna made her way to the secondary airlock on deck eight and, as expected, there were few people traveling through that route. It served mainly the forward repair crews, who were delayed at the moment while external crews laid new hull plating. She entered the station in one of the narrower upper deck corridors and made a sharp right. She waited for several officers to pass her before she turned on her heel and doubled back several yards to the junction room she had passed. She opened the wall hatch and crawled in.

     The Jefferies tube route to docking leg D was bizarre and nothing like the layout of a starship. Anna tightened the strap of her bag across her chest and began crawling in the direction of the docking leg. Up ahead, she could see the tube clearly bending as it traveled along the shape of the station leg that hugged the _Enterprise_ , but the gravity plating pulled on her in a constant downward. It was a disconcerting sensation which, she presumed, must make many of the station engineers sick to their stomachs. Eventually, she reached a section where, so it seemed, a ladder had been installed across the floor. An area marked in green before the first rung  stated the warning: CAUTION. GRAV PLATING DIRECTION DIFFERENT BEYOND THIS POINT. ENTER FEET FIRST.

     Anna released a breath and turned around. Very slowly, she stretched her leg behind her until she felt her boot land one of the rungs. She ‘stepped’ onto the next rung and so on until the sudden vertigo of a gravity change made her head spin. At this point, the gravity in the Jefferies tube made a ninety degree shift, instantly transforming into a vertical shaft rather than a horizontal crawl space.

     “God.” She muttered. She hadn’t dealt with this since the Academy. She continued her descent as quickly as she could and came to rest in a small junction room with one exit. Anna knelt down in front of the hatch and was very quiet. She knew she could not open the door, not even a bit, until the right moment. She glanced at her watch.

     07:58.

     _Please, Teni. I’m counting on you._

    

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     Beyond the hatch and several yards down the corridor, Teni stepped out of the turbo lift and darted her eyes both ways. She was nervous as hell and it was showing on her pale, sweaty face. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and swallowed hard. She and Anna had discussed everything, quickly and precisely, and she had not even hesitated to offer her assistance. She was alive because of Lore. Or, if she had survived, she would have wished she was dead. In either case, she owed him big, and she wasn’t about to let a bunch of stupid scientists pin him with something he didn’t do. She held the lift doors open and punched the exact key sequence Anna had shown her into the panel. She knew this was going to hurt, but it was worth it.

     Teni dropped down on the ground, extending her right leg back into the lift just as the doors closed.

     “Aaaahhh! Somebody help me!” The cry was half real, half farce. The doors really were pressing against her with startling strength, but she knew they would not go any further. That was the plan.

)))))))))))))

     Anna heard shouts and the thump of the feet over the deck. It was too many feet to be just one guard, and so, sure her coast was clear, Anna quickly unsealed the hatch and pressed it open. Looking to the left, she almost gasped with joy. They were gone. The damn guards were actually gone! She looked right as she hoisted herself out into the corridor and closed the hatch. Down the way and around a corner she could hear Teni wailing about her leg being crushed and two male voices shouting instructions at each other and calling for medical assistance.

     She rushed toward the airlock and, using her standard security override code, opened it, but he outer airlock was not the one she needed to worry about. She knew that thus far station security had been unsuccessful in their attempts to gain entry to Lore’s ship. She hoped— _prayed_ —that it wouldn’t be the same for her.

     The airlock was short, about thirty feet, and she ran full on before the guards could return to their post and see her through the glass. She reached the end and looked at the bronze colored door that led to Lore’s ship. There was a single access pad on the door. Of everything she had planned, here was the greatest assumption, the single largest element that she could not account for ahead of time. She pressed a random key on the pad to activate it.

     It beeped angrily.

     “Computer,” She said, voice shaking, “Do you recognize me?”

     A pause, then Anna heard a slow professional version of her own voice, _“_ Security authorization recognized. Welcome aboard, Anna.”

     _Whoa, that is kind of creepy._

     “Initializing pressurization. Reactivating environmental norms. Entry in thirty seconds.”

     Thirty seconds. Anna looked back over her shoulder and trembled. She wasn’t sure how long Teni could keep it up, and it wouldn’t take them long to figure out that the doors were just doing a safety pressure test. Ten seconds went by, twenty, then the doors before her hissed and began to roll open. Anna pressed herself inside without waiting for them to fully open.

     “Computer, seal the airlock! Prepare to release docking clamps!” She ran forward through the nearest door and was immediately met with a corridor that curved off to the left and right. Teni had given her a short overview of the layout of Lore’s ship. She darted to the right and followed the wide, curving corridor up the length of the ship and toward the bridge. She didn’t have much time now. If the guards had not already realized that something was wrong, the use of her security code in an unauthorized area would raise an alarm at any moment. She dropped her back on the deck as she reached the bridge and bounded up to the raised control area at the aft of the room.

     The controls were in scrolling Borg code, which she quickly changed to English before bringing up the system overlay. She knew Lore would never have disarmed his vessel as he was ordered to, but she also knew he would have hidden it well. No matter. Her plan did not call for weapons. Yet.

     The deck trembled slightly.

     _“_ Docking clamps disengaged.” The computer reported in Anna’s calm voice.

     That was it.  Alarms would be sounding aboard the station and the guards scrambling to figure out what was going on. Anna fired up the impulse engines and brought up the view screen. The vessel faced away from the station and the hulk of the _Enterprise,_ leaving the Earth to fill the view. She activated the impulse engines and the ship began to slowly pull away.

     “Computer, initiate the cloaking device.” She looked down at the control screen as the computer beeped it’s acknowledgment. A small graphic representing the ship wiggled and changed color, indicating that the cloak was in place. 

     Ann piloted the vessel toward Earth and descended to a low, substandard orbit, far below the normal orbiting traffic. She set the engines to maintain a geosynchronous position and picked up her bag from the deck. She checked her pockets for everything she would need, especially the pattern enhancer. She pulled out the little box and activated it by the tiny switch on the side.

     “Computer, search for and tag a Borg pattern enhancer.” She waited as the computer searched, then noted the tiny light on the enhancer go from red to green. She shoved it back in her pocket next to her phaser and checked the time.

     08:04.

     Maddox would work quickly. He wouldn’t be shoddy or haphazard, but he _would_ work quickly. There was no telling how much time she had after he started. She dug further into the bag and retrieved the hypo-spray Dr. Crusher had given her. She popped out the sleep aid and replaced it with one of the stimulant cartridges. She winced as she pressed it against her neck. A crazy rush caused her to stumble back for a moment, dizzy. All the exhaustion, all the tired heat in her forehead vanished in an instant. It was as if she had just slept for ten hours and was ready to run a marathon. Before she could decide otherwise, she replaced the cartridge with another and gave herself the second dose.

     _Whoa…._

“Computer, prepare for a site to site transport to these coordinates.” She entered them into the console and stepped back, her eyes closed. _This is it. Don’t worry, Lore._ “Engage.”

 

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08:15

 

     Anna stormed through the front doors of the Daystrom Institute, her ever movement shouting displeasure. She had already been recognized by several people, but that wasn’t a problem. Actually, it worked. She crossed the short, gray tone lobby and stopped before a round reception desk being manned by one man. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the room. The Daystrom Institute, being such a specialized and small establishment, did not receive much casual pedestrian traffic, despite its location at the center of the Starfleet Academy campus. Anna knew this because she had noted the average size of the visitors log when she hacked into the database. She also knew the entire layout of the building.

     “Hello.” Said the cadet manning the desk, “What can I do for….Oh. Lieutenant.”

     _Yes. He recognizes me. Thank you, news media._

“I need to see Dr. Maddox.” She said abruptly. She was sure to sound angry and irritated.

     The man shifted uneasily, as if he had actually been warned about such a possible occurrence. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Dr. Maddox is…eh…busy for the rest of the day and he left direct instructions that he wasn’t to be interrupted.”

     _I bet he did._ “Fine. I want him to have this.” She removed a PADD from her inside pocket.  “Lore gave me these files a long time ago, said they would be important if he was ever damaged.”

     The cadet, who was obviously studying in the area of cybernetics, looked at the PADD like a Ferengi eyeing latinum. “What kind of files?”

     Anna shrugged and shook her head. She made a show of building emotion, as if she was about to have some kind of outburst. “Stupid design journals or something that belonged to Noonien Soong. Apparently they’re the only copies, but I don’t want them anymore. I don’t want anything of his after what he did!”

     All the cadet’s worry melted in an instant. “Oh! Well, wait just a second. He’s only about twenty minutes into the procedure. I’ll contact him. Hold on.”

     The man turned to a small screen behind him and activated it by entered his short access code. Anna stepped back and pulled the phaser from her pocket.

     “I’m sorry.” She said, and fired. The stun blast struck the young man high on the back and he crumpled forward. Anna rushed around the desk and caught him on the way down, where she lowered him into some semblance of comfort. Her heart was pounding in her ears now. With each step further she increased her prison term.

     Using the screen that the man had activated with his own code, she opened the buildings intercom system and deactivated it by initiating a silent ping test. It would help, but only for so long. Backing out of the desk area, she crossed the lobby at a run and headed down the main corridor that extended the length of the building. The man lab was at the center of the building, third door on the left. She gripped the phaser in her sweaty hand as she reached the door. She was on autopilot now. She could no longer register or react to her own thoughts, and it was better that way.

     She made short work of the access panel next to the door, and fired at the magnetic servos inside. The door shuddered, then gave no resistance as she forced it open.

A large circular space with two levels met her eyes. Scientists in light blue smocks hovered over consoles on the back raised platform as Bruce Maddox stood just feet from Lore’s head. Lore was laid out on a exam table, a clear, multi-layered optical cord extending from the back of his skull. Another space on the side of his head was also open.

     “Get back!” Anna ordered as she bounded down the steps and onto the main floor. “Now!”

     Maddox stepped back from the table with one fist closed. He was quick, but Anna saw something small and metallic in his hand. She raised the phaser again. “I said get back!”

     The rest of the scientists had their hands raised in front of them and were pressing their backs against their consoles. They looked in no mood to argue with her. Maddox, however, practically snarled.

     “Maddox to security! Intruder!”

     “They can’t hear you.” Anna said through clenched teeth. She looked at Lore and nearly gasped. His eyes were open. Wide open and staring at the ceiling. She turned back to Maddox, “You son of a bitch. You weren’t even going to close his eyes before you butchered him?”

     Maddox shifted his eyes to the other scientists, then back to her, “Lieutenant, you need to calm down and think about what you’re doing here.”

     “Shut up!” She demanded. She reached into her pocket with her free hand and grabbed the pattern enhancer. Taking up a position on the side of the table away from Maddox, she placed the tiny device on Lore’s chest. Before she pressed the control on the side, she looked again at the open space at the side of Lore’s head. A good portion of the space was empty, as if something roughly the size of golf ball had been removed.

     _The thing in his hand…._ She jabbed the phaser in his direction. “Give it to me.”

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stop this now, Lieutenant, and maybe—.”

     “Give it to me!” She cried, the growth stimulant pumping through her veins like an illegal narcotic. She had studied Lore’s schematics as much as possible in the short time she had had, and while she was no expert she at least knew that the area she was looking at contained vital components.

     Maddox sneered again and actually took a step toward her, “Have you lost your mind? You’ll spend the next twenty years in prison!”

     “Give me what is in your hand, or I _will_ shoot you.” Her voice cracked but there was no question of her sincerity. Several of the other scientists stared at Maddox in stark confusion, as if they couldn’t figure out why he was risking his life like this.

     “No.” Maddox replied. He took yet another cocky step forward and smiled. “Go ahead and shoot, Lieutenant. If you knew anything about cybernetics, you would know that an exposed neural cluster is incredibly sensitive to radio signals. As a precaution, I had this room fitted with a dampening field before we even got started. Your weapon in useless.”

     Anna took a single, shaky step back, the phaser trembling in her fingers. The man before wasn’t just a corrupt officer or an obsessed scientists. He was a murdered. This was the man who had murdered Owen.

      “Yeah. I thought that might be the case.” With that, she dropped the phaser to the ground and reached under her coat to pull from her waistband a late twenty-first century Colt Cobra 38 revolver. She aimed and fired.

     “Argh!” Maddox howled as he collapsed. The bullet did not so much pass through his knee as it did pulverize it. Blood gushed from the wound as Maddox hovered his hands over it in hysterical shock. “You crazy bitch!” 

     Anna reached for the enhancer on Lore’s chest and pressed the tiny key on the side. In a quick blur of green light, he was transported up to his ship, leaving the exam table empty. Anna moved around the table and stood only a few feet in front of Maddox. The blood was starting to pool and spread across the floor, and she knew that at any moment, any second, security would come flooding into the room.

     “Give me what you have there.” She said again.

     “You’re sick!” He gasped.

     “Relax,” She sneered. “Modern medicine is astounding, Doc. You won’t even have a scar, _if_ you give me what I want. Now!”

     It was his excruciated pain, or perhaps the sincerity in Anna’s eyes, that turned him. In disgust, he tossed the item in his clenched fist at Anna’s feet. A bulbous little object, like a puffed up rectangle stopped at her boot. Anna snatched it up and shoved it in her pocket. For that brief moment she took her eyes from Maddox and he threw himself forward onto his chest. He just managed to grab Anna’s ankle and pull, causing her to fall backward. She struck the exam table and fell sideways, he jacket momentarily falling up over her head.

     “Run!” One of the scientists yelled. The two nearest the door made a dash for it and Anna did nothing to stop them, but it meant she was really out of time now. Security would be coming.

     She kicked at Maddox, quickly stepped out of his grasp and leveled the gun on him again. She pointed it directly at his head and his eyes grew painfully wide. He was knelt forward, his shattered knee sprawled out to his side as his hands rested in his own blood. His eyes were directly on hers.

     Anna leaned in close, the metal of the gun moving closer, “You know what makes you worse? You knew the difference between right and wrong when you did it.” Anna pulled the trigger.

     Maddox cringed and lowered his head, but nothing happened. The hammer fell on an empty chamber. Just to make her point, Anna pulled the trigger two more times. Two more clicks.

     “Unlike you, I’m not a killer.”

     She didn’t even wait to see his reaction. She  sprinted for the door just as the other scientists fell into a chaos of screams and calls for help. Emerging into the wide corridor, she looked in the direction of the lobby and started running in the opposite direction. There was a back exit leading into the Academy gardens. As she ran, she reached in to her pants pocket and removed the standard transport activator she had taken from the _Enterprise._ She pressed it as she slammed into the glass door and emerged into the chill October air.

     As she had feared, nothing happened. It could only mean one thing. Building security was aware of the intruder alert and had initiated an area wide dampening field. It was standard procedure on the Academy campus. This was why it was unfortunate that Seven could not make two pattern enhancers. She ran full out across the rolling grass, the two vials of stimulant doing their job as she heading toward the copse of trees on the other side of the field. They were roughly 70 yards away, the standard distance from which a building dampening field was effective.

     “Stop!” Ordered a male voice from behind her. Anna did not bother to slow or look back. She kept pressing the transport activator, knowing that it would work as soon as she was out of range.

     “Stop or you will be fired upon!” The guard ordered again.

     Anna’s heart was pounding so hard her head was starting to buzz. If they stunned her and she managed to activate the transporter, she would be a sitting duck. She would lay unconscious aboard Lore’s ship for hours until it was finally located, and then it would all be over. 

    She spun around and raised her hands in the air. She made a big show of tossing the gun away from her. She concealed the transport activator in her other palm, continuing to press the button.

    “Don’t fire! I’m not armed anymore!” She called, but she continued to move backward as she spoke. With each few steps, the pressed the activator again.

     “Remain where you are!” The guard called. A handful of security personnel were running across the field after her, phasers raised. She continued to move backward, even going fast, pressing the activator. They wouldn’t fire so long as she was unarmed and continued to face them. She hoped. Security personnel weren't hired for their sense of calm.

     “I said stop moving!” The guard ordered again. He was only about twenty yards away now.

     “Come on, come on.” Anna gasped to herself. She darted back faster now, her arms still in the air as she pressed the activator.

     “Lieutenant Hall, remain where you are and—.”

     Anna did not hear the rest of the order. She felt that familiar pull in the middle of her gut before the Academy campus disappeared behind a veil of green light. In its place, the dark confines of Lore’s bridge appeared around her. The exertion was too much and she fell to her knees as soon as the transporter released her. A few feet away she saw Lore lying on the deck. She released a laugh of triumph and pulled herself up over the nearest console.

     “Computer! Set a course one-eight-seven, mark two-two-four at warp eight. Engage!”

     Anna collapsed to the deck and rolled on to her side. She breathed. For the longest time she did the only two things she could do; the laughed and she breathed.    

    

    


	50. Chapter 50

**_“Is he very much like Lore?”_ **

     “Oh, no. Oh….” Teni’s shoulders hunched up to her ears as she whimpered pathetically. It was about to happen. They had seen her and she had seen them, and it was clear what was about to happen. She had expected it, eventually.

     “Teni, what’s wrong?” Blake asked from across the table.

     Teni met his puppy brown eyes for a moment. Oh! Timothy Blake was a good man—a wonderful man!—and she had barely had any time to spend with him. She knew he was going to ask her for another date, and like the sweetheart he was he would spend the entire evening trying to hold her hand or sit close to her, but that was all. He had not tried anything more than that.

     It really was too bad she wouldn’t be able to go out with him tonight. Or the night after that. She looked past Blake, across the promenade at the small group of guards who were heading directly toward her.

     “Oh, I’m sorry, Timothy!” She gasped, “I had to. It was the right thing to do!”

     “What are you talking about?” Blake said, really worried.

     TShe had lived in some truly horrible places. She knew hunger. She knew what it was like to be cold and dirty, to dread the next day like it was a punishment. So, what was the worst that could happen? A few months in a Federation prison, at worst a few years? It would be a vacation.  A warm, safe, fully fed vacation.

     “Ma’am?” Said the first guard as she stopped a few feet from their table. “Would you please get up and come with us?”

     Blake shot up in an instant. Teni watched his brown eyes go to the phasers on the security guards’ hips. “What? She hasn’t done anything!”     

     “Timothy, don’t.” Teni whispered, “I…I have to go with them.”

     “What are you talking about?” Blake demanded, “What’s going on? Is she under arrest?”

The guard shook her head. “It won’t have to come to that if you just come with us now to answer some questions.”

     “For what?” Blake demanded, still unmoved. 

     “No, no.” Teni said quickly, stepping forward, “I’ll go. I have to go.” She faced Blake and gave him an apologetic frown.

     “Ensign Blake,” The guard said, now facing him, “Would you please come with us as well?”

     Blake gasped but didn’t object. He seemed relieved that he at least got to go along. Teni hugged herself as they walked across the promenade in a loose group. They weren’t holding her or restraining her in any way, but the collection of armed guards was more than enough to tell people that something was going on. People were watching them as they reached the other side of the gallery and continued down the corridor toward security headquarters. 

      _A Federation brig. Warm, clean, safe….It’s not that bad._

She heard raised voiced from down the hall. A man—No. Two men—were arguing fiercely about something.

     “By what right?” Captain Picard demanded, “You have no proof, and she denies it!”

     “Of course she denies it! She’s not a fool!” The second man shouted back.

     Just behind the lead guard, Teni and Blake entered the large front room of station security. There was a long conference table near the far windows, but no one sat there. Instead, Teni saw several guards standing around a tall blonde woman with some metal thing around her eye. She stood with immaculate posture, her hands folded behind her back. She was not being restrained in any way.

     On the other side of the room, Captain Picard, Admiral Roth, and General Cross stood near a small imaging table. A holographic image swirled above it. Teni immediately recognized it to be Lore’s ship.

     “Captain, please.” Admiral Roth said, throwing up his hands, “We know it was Borg technology that allowed Hall to transport Lore out of the cybernetics lab! Where did she get it, if not from her?”

     No one answered. This question had apparently been asked already, several times. Admiral Roth frowned angrily—for something had finally happened to force aside his faux joviality—and indicated that he wanted Seven of Nine to sit. She nodded and slowly took a seat on the opposite side of the table. She folded her hands on the surface in front of her, utterly impassive.

     “You too. Have a seat.” Roth ordered, pointed at Teni. Unlike Seven, who moved with a kind of stubborn slowness, Teni rushed to the seat next to Seven and fell into it with a childish little gasp. The butterflies were having a civil war in her belly. Huh…butterfly civil war. It sounded like the title of the children’s book.

     _Stop being stupid, Teni!_

     Everyone faced them. Picard moved to the doors just as they opened and two more people entered the room. Teni recognized Geordie LaForge and Counselor Troi, despite only having met each of them once.

     Roth did not acknowledge the new arrivals, and neither did Cross, who stood further back with his arms folded over his chest. Instead, Roth faced Teni and Seven, “Did you build a Borg pattern enhancer for Lieutenant Hall?”

     “No.” Seven replied flatly.

     “You’re lying!” Roth shot back, “If she didn’t get it from you, where else could she have possibly gotten it? I’ve had my people checking over the classified technology databases where such things are kept, and they assure me there have been no breaches.”

     Seven’s expression was a picture of calm, “With all due respect, Admiral, have you not considered who Lt. Hall was trying to free? Lore knew as much about Borg technology as I do. It is not inconceivable that he taught her many things.”

     Roth’s face was turning red. He jabbed his finger in her direction, but seemed to think twice about what he was going to say.

     Teni trembled. Compared to the statue at her right, she must have looked like a blubbering mess. She made eye contact with Blake, who was still standing. He was utterly confused.

     “Captain,” Blake began, making a deferential nod to Picard, “Sir…I’m not sure I understand what’s going here. What’s all this about?”

     Picard sighed heavily, “Just a moment, Ensign. I think it will all be clear very quickly.”

     “Counselor Troi.” Roth said, crossing the room, “I want you to tell me if Seven of Nine is lying.”

     Troi’s eyes widened just for a second, then she nodded very professionally and stepped forward. It was only because of Teni’s proximity to Seven of Nine that she felt the woman shift nervously in her seat.

     _She_ is _lying. She did give it to Anna!_ It was all a revelation to her too. Anna had not told Teni anything about her overall plan. She only knew her small part, knew that it was to help Lore escape, and that had been enough. But, from what little she had heard thus far, it sounded like the Borg woman was going to be in a lot more trouble than she was. Faking a little personal injury and giving away restricted technology were not exactly comparable crimes.

     Roth leaned against the table with both hands, “Now, Seven. Answer me again. Did you build a Borg pattern enhancer for Lt. Hall?”

     Once again Seven did not hesitate, but her eyes did shift, “No.”

     Roth spun around to look at Troi, as did everyone else in the room. Teni held her hands in her lap and picked at her cuticles like a mad woman. If she had been planning to lie there was no point now, not with an empath in the room. 

     But Troi shook her head. “No, Admiral. She’s telling the truth as best she knows it.”

     Roth’s jaw fell open like the hinge had broken. “Excuse me?”

     _Ha ha!_ Teni gasped and covered her mouth. She couldn’t believe it.

     Picard stepped forward. “Admiral, I think it’s perfectly logical that Lt. Hall constructed the device herself, considering...eh….”

     “Considering how _close_ she was with Lore, Captain?” Roth spat, shaking his head. “Yes, I suppose that is true. It _fits_ so nicely.”

     Even Teni could hear the nasty disbelief in the man’s voice. He took a step back and  looked at every face in the room, like a storybook Captain facing down a mutiny. When his eyes met Teni’s, he moved forward.

     _Oh…._

“Miss Teni.” Roth said, “I’m going to make this simple. We know that you instructed a turbo lift to engage in a safety test just before you let the door close on you and _pretended_ to be trapped. The instructions were still visible in the computer. Explain yourself.”

     Should she lie too?. Why not? Seven of Nine was lying and she was getting away with it! Maybe she could get away with a half lie….

     “I pretended to be hurt so the guards would come and help me!” Teni said in a gush, “I needed to get them away from the airlock they were guarding.”

     Blake gasped and Teni tried not to look at him. _Oh, don’t hate me, Timothy Lore didn’t do it._

     “Are you aware of the penalties for aiding and abetting a prison escape?” Roth snapped.

     “Prison!?” Teni snapped back, clenching her little fists in front of her. “I don’t know anything about that!” _Here goes._ “Anna just told me she wanted to get on his ship because she needed something there, something of Lore’s. I…I thought she was just going to get it and sneak back out!”

     Roth closed it eyes, obviously trying to calm down a worse reaction. He said, slowly, “Counselor?”

     Teni looked at Troi with her bottom lip clenched in her teeth. Troi did not look at her.

     “The best I can tell, Sir, she’s telling the truth.” Troi said.

     _Thank the Prophets!_

Roth nodded. He kept nodding, like a man trying to keep himself under control. “I see.” He finally said. “So, Lieutenant Hall, a career engineer with _no_ security background, just managed to steal an impounded vessel that no one else could get into, and then freed a prisoner from a Starfleet facility after assaulted two officers. And she managed all of this with _no help_!”

     Silence followed while Roth stared people down and some turned their eyes away. Troi and Picard did not look away. Finally, Roth turned to General Cross, “General, I want your people to go through the computer records and determine all of Lt. Hall’s movements for the last twenty hours. Do the same for Seven of Nine.”

     Seven quirked an eyebrow,  but didn't look worried. Without bothering to make a farewell, Admiral Roth indicated for Cross and the other security personnel to join him as he headed toward the exit. Everyone cleared a path. He turned at the last minute and shot a harsh look at Picard.

     “It might interest you to know, Captain, that in addition to stunning an eighteen year old cadet, Lt. Hall shot Dr. Maddox in the kneecap with an antique firearm.” Roth saw the surprise fire over Picard’s face. He continued, “That’s right. The weapon contained only one round, so I suppose we can at least be happy that she didn’t kill him.”

     Teni snorted. She didn’t mean to. She really didn’t, and she regretted it the moment it happened. Roth shot her a narrow glare, “Miss Teni? Something to say?”

     _Maddox is a murderer._ She didn’t say it, though. She was almost out of trouble here, and she needed to keep her mouth shut. She shook her head. Roth spun around with a final disgusted grunt and left the room. The door closed and there were no more security personnel left. Teni immediately stood and rushed over to Blake. She began whispering fiercely.

     “I’m sorry, but I had to help. He didn’t do it, Tim, and they were going to kill him and—.”

     “You and Anna broke Lore out of jail!” Blake cried.

     “Oh!” Teni turned around, cringing, but when she faced Captain Picard and the others she did not see the shock or anger she expected. Instead, Picard turned to Seven.

     “Where are they?” He asked.

     Seven stood and crossed the room toward the imaging table. She removed the hologram of Lore’s ship and began  entering commands onto the console. She looked up, clearly relieved, “Out of range, Captain. They’re gone.”

     Picard sighed heavily and nodded.

     “Wh—wait a minute.” Teni said, completely confused. “You were tracking them? You know where they are?”

     Seven pressed a litany of controls on the console again, then said as if it were a side thought, “I planted a tracking device into the pattern enhancer I made for Lt. Hall.”

     _What!_ “How could you do that?” Teni demanded. “She trusted you!”

     Picard stepped forward and put a calming hand on Teni’s shoulder. The man, who had looked so stern and unapproachable moments ago, smiled, “We did not betray Lt. Hall. We’re trying to help her. Seven wanted to make sure she made it out of the system safely. Since Lore’s vessel has a cloak there wouldn’t have been any other way to know if something went wrong with her escape until it was too late.”

     Teni’s mind stopped working. She just stood with eyes wide for a full five seconds before the reality was coming home. “You…you knew? Anna trusted you? You…You’re all in on it?”

     “No, Teni.” Troi said quietly, “Seven told us everything only a few minutes after Anna got away.”

     Teni shot Seven a shocked glare, “Well, you’re certainly trusting, aren’t you!” 

     Seven raised her brow at that comment, “I was prepared to accept responsibility for my actions, but I decided it would be prudent to first inform Commander LaForge and Captain Picard of what I had done, since I am technically under their command at this time.”

     Teni grimaced and shook her head, “Wow. I was going to tell the truth only because I had no other choice. Thank you so much, Counselor. I…I….”

     Troi shook her head, “Teni, I think it’s best if you forget about all of this. For your own good, do you understand? Don’t say anything to anyone, except….” Troi glanced at Blake, who was about as stunned as Teni had been a moment ago, “Except for those who already know anyway.”

     A broad smile crossed Teni’s face. She couldn’t believe this, and she only wished Anna knew, “You don’t believe it, do you? That Lore killed that man?”

     Troi simply shook her head.

     “Well, I…I guess that’s it. Isn’t it?” Teni said, her brow knitted in confusion. “I mean, they got away, and no one will ever find them. Believe me. Lore knows how to blend when he wants to.”

     Picard glanced at the door, then shot Seven and Geordie meaningful looks. “I’m afraid not. We have to remember that _someone_ murdered Dr. Warrick. We’ve all been concerned about Lore’s innocence; no one has been thinking about who is guilty.”

     “Maddox—.” Teni covered her own mouth, quickly. Just because everyone thought Lore was innocent didn’t mean they would buy into the idea that Maddox did it. She didn’t know that, and she was terrified of making an accusation that might get her into trouble. But, the feeling of dread didn’t last long. Troi met her eyes and nodded once.

     They thought it too.

     “…impossible.” Geordie said, allowed Teni to catch just the end of his sentence. He was speaking to Seven of Nine, “I already thought about a hologram, but there aren’t any holoemitters in that corridor, and no one would be able to install them and then remove them without being noticed. Plus, there’s no one else on the surveillance footage. No one would have been able to remove holoemitters without being seen.”

     Seven nodded. “Agreed. The concept of a mobile emitter is also not worth considering. That technology is limited to the Voyager Doctor, and I am certain he would have known if his mobile emitter went missing.”

     Picard listened to all of this with a renewed frown. “I understand we’re up against something hard here, but I want you to keep at it. And, Geordie, see if you can access the work terminals that Dr. Maddox was using in the holo engineering labs. I think it goes without saying you should be discreet.”

     “Aye, Sir.” Geordie nodded. He and Seven left, still deep in discussion. Teni only just noticed a nod from Picard that told Blake he was dismissed. Blake took her hand and began pulling her toward the door. With the utmost relief she followed.

     “Ensign,” Picard said suddenly as he broke from his conversation with Troi.

     “Yes, Sir?” Blake said.

     “I understand that you have worked with B-4 in engineering several times, that he knows you? I would like you to look in on him.”

     Blake frowned, “Look in on him?”

     “Yes, just…see what he is up to, what is he doing? And don’t tell him _anything_ about what happened this morning. Not yet.”

     “Aye, Sir.” Blake replied.

     Teni felt a truly immature rush of excitement as she followed Blake back out into the corridor. “Can I come with you? To meet B-4?”

     “Yeah, sure.” Blake said with a smile, as if he had already assumed.

     She beamed. She still felt involved, like she was still a part of helping Lore in any way she could. It might have been immature, and a little self destructive considering the trouble they were all facing, but she didn’t care. After all, she _was_ young. She could seek reckless adventure all she wanted.

     “Um…I only met B-4 that one time. I only said hello to him.” Teni whispered as they began crossing the promenade toward the airlock corridor. “Is he very much like Lore?”

     “Oh, God no!” Blake laughed, “Not even close.”

 

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     “I am not supposed to be on the station.” B-4 said without saying a word. He thought the statement, being sure not to so much as move his lips as he did.

     _That does not matter right now. You may deal with that later._

“Okay.” B-4 thought as he stepped out of the turbo lift and turned in the direction of the airlock corridor. It was the middle of the day and he passed many people. Some of those people gave him startled looks, while others said hello in strange, drawn out tones. B-4 was not good with tones, but he recognized this one. It was the same voice he had heard from Troi when she told him she had bad news. It was low and intended to be…comforting?

     “Hello, Bee.” Said a young woman, a brand new Ensign who had just recently been assigned to the _Enterprise._ She was speaking in that _tone_. “Are you alright? I’m really sorry about everything.”

     “Yes, I am fine.” B-4 said happily. He did not ask about the meaning of the rest of her statement, for Data would not like that. He was on ‘a mission’ and had to get to his destination fast. He smiled at the young woman, “I must go now. Goodbye.”

     “Okay. Keep your chin up!” The woman called while shaking her head sadly. So sadly.

     B-4 lifted his chin up. He was not sure why the woman wanted him to do it, but he saw no reason to deny the request.

     _It is a metaphor. You must hurry._

B-4 crossed the promenade toward the turbo lift and quickly directed it to take him to upper deck. From there, the lifts jutted out in multiple directions to make their strange courses to the ‘legs’ of the station. He directed it to docking leg D, and waited. He was nervous, but not so much so that he lost his focus. It was the same kind of focus he demonstrated while watching the footage, for they were still seeking the same goal now.

     The lift stopped and opened onto a short narrow corridor that soon came to a T. Having already memorized the station’s layout, he took a left and headed toward the docking airlocks. Long before reaching them, however, he came to a hatch which was currently closed. In this section of the station, the interiors were much more industrial and utilitarian. Raised ledges separated airtight doors at various places. B-4 came close to the small window in the hatch and looked through. The corridor beyond was perfectly familiar, for he had been looking at that same corridor on a computer screen for hours.

     He reached for the hatch lever and stopped. A small red plastic chain had been wrapped around the handle several times. A tag reading ACTIVE CRIME SCENE NO ENTRY hung from the chain.

     “No entry.” B-4 repeated.

     _You must._ _The surveillance cameras are more than likely still active. They will see you. They will know you did not tamper with anything. Go. Do not touch anything._

He snapped the plastic chain in two and allowed it to fall to deck as he pulled the hatch open and secured it to the bulked. The corridor beyond was the same narrow, grey design. The four way intersection which featured prominently in the surveillance footage was about twenty feet up ahead. B-4 entered and, keeping his hands close to his sides, walked towards the place where Dr. Warrick’s body had been discovered.  

     _Look, Bee. Pay attention. Examine everything that was in the camera’s field of view._

     B-4 stopped, then took a few steps closer. With each step, the panorama of his vision more closely matched that of the camera. It was not perfect, since the camera was nine feet off the ground, but it would have to do. He could also see more than the camera had been able to capture. He could see the door up ahead through which Dr. Warrick had entered. He could see the camera itself, high and just to his left on the corner. For nearly twenty minutes, he looked. He compared every inch of deck to the deck in the surveillance footage; every skid on the floor, every scratch on the wall, every bolt on the ceiling plates, every wall sconce and panel latch—.

     Wall sconce….

     B-4 stepped forward quickly, finally entered the camera’s field of vision and thus limiting the time they had remaining. He craned his neck up, staring with wide unsure eyes at the blue oval light fixture on the wall. There was nothing strange about it. It looked like every other light fixture in the corridor, approximately twenty six centimeters wide, spaced two point six meters from the next wall sconce. But it was _there_ , and B-4 could not take his eyes from it.

     _Very good, Bee. We have it._  

     He grinned and actually hopped a little, his excitement getting the better of him. He was not sure what it meant, exactly, but that didn’t matter. He had found something _different,_ something that should be not be.

     “What do I do?” He cried.

     _Bee, do not speak aloud. The camera._

“I am sorry.” He thought, turning away from the camera’s view. He stood still for a moment while the happy trembling in his hands slowed. Then, he turned around and headed back the way they had come. He stepped over the door ledge and closed the hatch behind him.

     “Is this good?” B-4 asked in his thoughts. He was sure it was, but he wanted to know if Data thought so too.

     _Yes, Bee. This is very good. This is exactly what we need._

     “Will Lore be okay now?”

     _I cannot make that promise, but this will help. We still have other things to do._

Nodding, B-4 headed back toward the lift and to the _Enterprise._

      

    

      

    

    


	51. Chapter 51

**_“Don't count on it.”_ **

     _Stop! Please!_

The pain was unbearable. He felt the urge to move, to tighten every limb as if that act alone would somehow alleviate the fire coursing through him limbs. No matter how hard he tried, nothing helped. He was no longer able to move and…and the pain had stopped. Had it?

     Lore remained perfectly still and quiet, though not entirely by choice. He attempted to raise his hand but found himself unable. He was not even certain he felt his limbs anymore, or any other part of him. Without the ability to move, it was difficult to know if he still had sensation. He listened intently, but he also heard nothing. Absolutely nothing, not even the sound of his own biomimetic systems. His auditory systems were offline.

     _Where am I?_

Quickly checking his internal chronometer, he registered that there were forty-two hours for which he could not account. That much time must have passed since he was rendered unconscious.

     Lore felt a sudden pressure at the back of his skull, as if his head had been listed from another surface. A fresh wave of fear ran through him. He was lying down, which he had not even been sure of a moment ago. Yes, now he could feel a hard surface behind his head, his back, his legs. He was on a table of some kind, or possibly the ground. Once again he tried to listen. Nothing. He tried to open his eyes, but he doubted he would see anything even if he did. No light penetrated his eyelids, which could only mean that his visual systems were also offline. 

     His head moved again, ever so slightly, and he felt pressure at the side of his head this time. Something kept brushing across his ear, rustling his hair. Skin? Fabric? Both? He tried to inhale, to smell the air, but even that was denied him. He was paralyzed! Panic increased exponentially. It was happening. It was finally happening. Bruce Maddox had won, and now he could see himself laid out on the examination table in the Daystrom Institute lab. It would be just like those first moments, years ago. The same lights would be shining above his face, the same technicians busily moving behind him. Only, this time he would be completely aware of everything. He would feel his consciousness slip away with each file Maddox deleted, each memory he so crudely discarded so that he could get to the clean positronic template he so desperately wanted.

      And all of it because of something he did not do. He was too terrified to be angry. He could only hope—not that it mattered now—that Anna did not believe it. He remembered the numb look on her face when that guard had accused him of murder.

     _I didn’t do it. I love you, Anna. Please take care of B-4._

     Without warning, the pressure at the side of his head ceased. He felt a small vibration move through the surface he was against—the floor? Table?—as if an object had been dropped. Then, he felt a light flutter as something moved through his hair. Could it be…was it…fingers? Suddenly, the fingers left his hair and ran down his cheek, gently.

     _What the hell?_

     The hand vanished and he felt another moment of pressure at the side of his head, followed by a tiny snap.

     All sensation ceased, and his mind once again fell into nothingness.

 

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     Another two hours of lost time,the world still black.

     He wasn’t on an exam table. Or, if he was, it wasn’t an exam table at the Daystrom Institute. He could feel vibrations through his back, low constant vibrations like the hum of a warp engine. He was not on Earth.

     _Hello?_ How silly that he would think the word, since he still could not utter it. Was he on the _Enterprise_? No. The _Enterprise_ engines were out of commission. The _Titan_? Would he be on Riker’s ship for some reason?

     A brush of wind moved across his face suddenly. Despite still not being able to breath, the movement of the air was enough for him to detect something. Coffee and…sunflowers? Sunflowers!

     _Anna! Is that you!_

He struggled to move, willing his limbs to respond to his demands, but it was useless. A quick, panicked check of his internal systems showed that his primary motor link was disconnected. In fact, several of the sensory input links were missing; sight, sound, taste. He felt a tiny snap at the right side of his head and in a flash he could see dull lights through his eyelids.

     _Yes!_ But he still could not open his eyes.

     Another gentle snap and his head filled with sounds; the rumble of the engines, the far off hiss of environmental systems, and…the thump of a heart. Low, steady breathing very close to him, and the pressure at the side of his head continued.

     _Say something._ He listened as he tried to focus on the blurry bits of light coming through his eyelids, but nothing happened for the longest time. The breathing continued, ragged at times, while the heartbeat changed tempo constantly. Unable to get anymore from his senses, he pulled inward. His primary sensor nodes were being reconnected, that much he could tell from the sudden renewal of his hearing, but…something was wrong. The nodes were being reconnected, but his primary management port was not responding. If all of the nodes were reconnected without that management port—.

     _Stop!_ In a flash like lightening he swore he could _hear_ the scents the air, taste sounds, _feel_ the blurry lights before his eyes. _Shit!_

“No! Damnit! No!” A voice cried in miserable frustration. Her tone cracked under strain, as if tears were fighting for space.

     _Anna? It’s you! Anna, I’m here!_

With his sensory inputs conflicted and overloaded, an emergency shutdown commenced. The world was black again.

 

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     The room, or wherever he was, was quiet. He could still hear the gentle hum of the warp core, but the engines had stopped. He could also hear breathing, though it was not regular. The breaths were broken here and there by sudden gasps and stops. Sobbing.

     He did a quick check of his internal systems and felt an overwhelming relief. His primary management port was conducting a restart, systematically running through each input before moving onto the next. Hearing was good, as was sensation. A moment later the lights reappeared over his eyes. Everything was coming together. Only his motor functions would take longer, as they too were controlled in stages. Lore was nothing if not complex.

     He opened his eyes and recognized the ceiling of his own ship, the bridge specifically. How had be gotten here? What was going on? In addition to being able to open his eyes, he found he could also move them. He looked to his left and saw the far wall of the bridge. He scanned over, trying to look down, but without the ability to move his head, yet, his forward sight barely cleared the bridge of his own nose. Still, he just managed to see the top of the view-screen. Swirls of pink and purple flowed outside like a thick fog. A nebula. He was in a nebula. He scanned past the screen and over to his right where he knew the main navigation console would be.

     His eyes fell on Anna. She was sitting on the deck barely a few feet away from him, leaning her shoulder against the side of the console just near the steps. She was sobbing in a weak, exhausted manner, as if she had already been crying for some time.

     _Anna. Look at me, I’m here._

“I’m sorry….” She gasped, barely speaking, “I’m so sorry….”

     She didn’t know he was there, _really_ there.  She pressed her hand over her eyes and trembled before she seemed to pull herself together a bit and lifted a data pad that was in her hands. She looked at it, squinted her eyes to see past the haze of her tears. A better view of her face was possible, and Lore’s heart nearly broke. She looked dreadful. She looked ill.

     The paralysis in his chest came to an end and he drew a deep breath. Anna’s head turned sharply and she saw his eyes looking at her. In a flash, she dropped the data pad to the deck and came to his side.

     “Oh! Hey, hey….” She touched the side of his face with cold fingers, “Lore? Are you with me?”

     Lore blinked once, hoping she took it for a yes.. She gasped and covered her mouth with his hands. 

     “I’m sorry.” She said again, “I…I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been over the schematics twenty times. I’ve done everything right! I—.” She clenched her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

     _It’s fine, Anna. Just be patient._ Each of his systems was running through an independent startup, and he supposed she was unaware of that. As he once again looked over his surroundings, it became clear they were alone. It was also clear that Anna had been forced to conduct some kind of repair on him without assistance. With each passing moment, his dread became worse. What had happened?

     “We’re on your ship.” Anna said as she wiped vigorously at the tears on her face. “I had no other choice. Maddox had you. He was going to go through with his experiment and I couldn’t let that happen.”

     He blinked again, understanding. So much was missing and yet he could at least fill in some blanks. He had been accused of murder, and somehow that accusation had allowed Bruce Maddox to regain custody over him. However, he seriously doubted the story was as simple as that. Much had happened in his missing forty-five hours. Much.

     His primary motor function port finished its startup, and in an instant he was himself again. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her as she seemed to collapses against him.

     “It worked!” She cried, the words muffled against him.

     “Yes, I’m fine.” He assured her. He turned his head and pressed his cheek against her hair. He had so much to worry about, so much to be enraged over, and yet all he could think about was this. Anna was there, with him. “What happened?”

     She wiped her face across her sleeve once more and pulled back slightly, “They…they said you killed Owen. And everyone believed it. The courts, they—Ah, damnit! They _gave_ you to the Daystrom Institute. There wasn’t going to be a trial, no jury. That was it.”

     He closed his eyes against the rage building in his chest. He could remember the look on Maddox’s face in those last moments before he lost consciousness. It all made sense. Maddox had _known_ he was about to get what he wanted, which meant Maddox knew he was innocent.

     “Maddox did this.” He said suddenly, “If Warrick is dead, Maddox killed him, or had him killed.”

     “I know.” She whispered, “But the evidence was…perfect. Everyone thinks you’re guilty, Lore.” Before he could ask the question, she leaned over and reached for one of the PADDs strewn around the deck nearby. She pressed a few keys and turned it toward him, her face like a death mask. Lore watched a grayish blue image play across the screen. He had two reactions; the moment he saw himself enter the frame, and the other when he watched what appeared to be _his_ hands break Owen’s neck.

      He looked up sharply. “This was the evidence against me?”

    “And it’s perfect. Geordie couldn’t find any flaws. He tried.”

      “How did you discover it was fake?” He asked. There were so many damn questions! Why were they out here? Why had she not taken her proof to the authorities, to Picard?

      _Maybe Picard wouldn’t want to hear it._ No. He actually made a conscious effort to shut down that thought. He was hardly friends with Jean-luc Picard, but he knew the man’s sense of justice was better than that.  

     Ann took the PADD from him and laid it face down on the deck. “I didn’t. Lore, I don’t have any proof it’s fake.”

     “What?” He reached up and placed his hands on her arms, “I…I _did not_ murder Warrick.”

     “I know.” She said, smiling bitterly, “I don’t need proof. I _know_ that footage is a fraud because I know you wouldn’t do that.”

     He smiled, but like hers it was a bitter thing. What did they have to smile about at the moment? They’re situation was dire to say the least. As if to make his point, he looked all around the room before coming back to her, “How did we get here? I assume Maddox took me.”

     Now her bitter little smile changed. It became sly and a little…guilty? “I rescued you.” In a quick rush of words, which really did seem to be taking the energy out of her, she explained as much as she could. She told him about hacking into the Daystrom Institute database to find out exactly when Maddox planned to perform his experiment. She told him about getting the pattern enhancer from Seven and  how Teni created the diversion that allowed her to get to his ship. His greatest reactions came at the mention of Seven and Teni. He considered Teni a friend, but Seven he hardly knew. He simply couldn’t believe that both of them would risk their freedom to help him.

     “…if he had just cooperated I wouldn’t have had to shoot him.” She said with a gasp.

     Lore’s jaw fell open, “You shot Maddox?” That thought should not have put a surge of guilty pleasure through him, but it most certainly did! As quickly as the satisfaction came, though, it melted. He was still accused of murder, and according to Anna everyone still had every reason to think he was guilty. But, more importantly, Anna was with him in this.

     “Anna, you….” He shook his head and pulled his hands away from her, “You shot two people rescuing me. You can never go back. Never. You’ve given up everything for me.”

     “I know.” She smiled up at him, “You would have done it for me.”

     “I have nothing to give up.” He countered, “You’ll never see your family again, your sisters.” Anger was working its way into him again. He was not angry at her. Certainly not. He was angry with Maddox, though anger hardly seemed an appropriate word. This was the exact opposite of everything he had ever wanted for Anna. He had left because he wanted her to be accepted by other people, and now she could not even see her family again. Her life was destroyed, and all because of Bruce Maddox.

     He lowered his hands to the deck and clenched them. The carpeting came up between his fingers, tearing into shreds.

     Anna came toward him again and wrapped her arms around his neck, “I hope you’re not trying to change my mind, because it’s sort of done.” She forced a chuckle, “Besides, I…I have faith in them. At least I know Seven thinks you’re innocent, and she’ll keep trying with the surveillance footage. She’s the second most intelligent person I know.”

     He laughed into the curtain of her hair, “I see. And who’s the first?”

     “Stop fishing.” She smiled and kissed the side of his neck several times. She drew a quick breath suddenly and winced. She pulled back and Lore saw her face contorted into a grimace of pain.

     “What’s wrong?” He asked, alarmed.

     “It’s okay, I just…Oh.” She pressed a hand to the side of her chest, “I took too much of the growth stimulant, that’s all. And…and I haven’t slept in quite a while.”

     He frowned and took a moment to fully absorb her pale skin and red tinged eyes, “What’s quite a while?”

     “Almost two days.” She sighed.

     “Come on.” He stood and pulled her up with him. Still holding her hand, he led her around the control platform and toward the Port side corridor where his quarters were. It was the same room he had made up to fool Teni into believing he was human.

     “Lore, we have to figure out what we’re going to do.” She objected, though her tone and the fact that she wasn’t pulling against his hand hardly put weight into her words.

     “Where are we now?” He asked.

     “The Orion Nebula.” She replied.

     “Then we’ll be safe here for a while.” He continued to pull her toward the room. “You have sleep now.”

     “I don’t want to sleep.” She grumbled, “I want to figure this out.”

     He sure as hell was not about to lecture the woman who had just saved his life, but he wasn’t going to allow her to become ill either. He did not have Dr. Crusher’s resources, and the idea that Anna’s lung condition might become complicated by exhaustion was simply unacceptable. He smiled, “Fine. We’ll talk about it until you fall asleep.”

     Once in the room, he led her straight to the bed where she sat on the edge and immediately laid down. So much for her assertion of staying awake. He knew she was worried about their situation, and so was he, but it could all wait. If he was being honest with himself, he really needed to think. He came to the edge of the bed and unfastened the buckles on Anna’s boots, pulling each one off. He then removed his own boots and kicked them aside.

     “What are you doing?” She muttered, already half unconscious.

     “What does it look like? I’m going to sleep.” He said with a smile. He went around the other side of the bed and crawled in next to her, pulling her back snugly against him.

     “You...don’t sleep.” She mumbled.

     He smiled again and pressed a kiss to the soft space behind her ear, “I know, but I think I’ll pretend. We’ll figure out everything later.”

     She made some kind of noncommittal grunt before her breathing ran deep and she was out. Lore kept his eyes open, if for no other reason than that he had spent too much time already being unable to see. The room moved with the light coming through pink and purple gas clouds outside, making the walls play like a kaleidoscope. His thoughts shifted from Anna and all she had given up for him, to the cause of everything. Bruce Maddox. Despite the sudden pit of rage that seemed to weigh in his gut, he knew almost immediately that he would do nothing. As much as his desire and sense of habit ran toward revenge, he dismissed the idea outright. He was not going to risk capture—or worse still. _Anna’s_ capture—for the sake of vengeance. The value of one compared to the other was no contest.

     Instead, he found himself thinking about B-4. Did his brother think he was guilty? He wasn’t sure. B-4 had changed a lot since he had known him in their youth, and he was not sure how B-4 would react to the kind of convincing evidence Anna had showed him. And Bee was alone now…. He would have Picard and LaForge, who—and Lore found this difficult to admit—actually seemed to care about him. His only real consolation came with the sure knowledge that Maddox didn’t want Bee. Bee was useless to him, and he would have no reason to go after him.

     Lore finally closed his eyes, but of course did not sleep. He listened to the sounds of the warp core and the nebula gas against the hull as he considered what they would do and where they would go once Anna woke up. 

 

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

     Bruce Maddox hobbled through the main entrance to the Daystrom Institute lobby with an empty bag over one shoulder. He wore civilian clothes and a murderous expression, which kept the new cadet at the reception desk from uttering one word of hello. Despite the asinine order of the surgeon to stay off his feet for at last the next twenty four hours, Maddox winced and groaned as he made his way past the desk and toward his lab. He didn’t have much time. Or, maybe he did. He didn’t know! He only knew that it was it for him here. Even if they never found out about everything, he was never going to be able to do his research after this. He was a Goddamned celebrity now, and not the good kind. Good scientists did their work in anonymity because that was the only way good work could get done.

     _Probably the first human to be maimed with a bullet in two-hundred years._ That was the joke moving around some corners of the media, especially in those outlets that had been “skeptical” about the court’s reversal of Lore’s standing. Those so-called ethical do-gooders who had been calling for Lore to get a trial and a jury and blah blah blah, only seemed to be growing louder since the news of everything went public. _…in two-hundred years…_. _Yeah, real fucking funny._

     He pressed his code into the pad and stomped into the dim lab. Just as he had demanded, the place was completely unchanged from the day before. As he passed the entrance to the main area, he looked down and his nose wrinkled. The room had the sick scent of rust and metal that only comes with large amounts of blood. His blood. It still marked the floor in a sticky congealing mess. It would all be taken care of as soon as the authorities gave the go ahead, probably in a few hours.

     Maddox wondered if he had even a few hours. It was quickly becoming clear that Lore had more allies than he ever would have imagined.

     He dropped his bag on the exam table and began collected his work files from their various locations. PADDs, chips, even a few paper journals here and there. He was sure to grab everything he had on Soong’s work, and did not forget to take the few precious bits of data he had managed to gather before that bitch had stormed into the room and put a piece of lead into his knee. There was no useless data in the room, he always made sure of that, and so he gathered up every chip and data-rod he came across, tossing them into the bag.

     He did not give the room a backward glance as he pulled the bag strap over his shoulder and left. He wasn’t sure, exactly, where he was going, but he knew this. It wasn’t going to be anywhere near the Federation. The Federation had already proved, in his eyes, that it was more concerned with appearances than actual progress, that its officials were slaved to their own elitist, philosophical ideals rather than reality. These were the same people who refused to utilize Borg technology, for crying out loud. They gave the terms _science_ and _discovery_ a bad name.

     But, there were people and places out there that had a practical approach to things, and he had no doubt they would welcome him and his work with open arms. If it was to their own benefits, so what? He could understand that.

     Maddox winced and clenched his jaw as he once more crossed the lobby and headed toward the frigid October night. The cadet behind the desk stood suddenly and said, “See you tomorrow, Doc.”

     Maddox practically spit as he turned and gave the cadet a frosty look, “Don’t count on it.”

     

  

    

    

     

    

    


	52. Chapter 52

 

_“ **Who are we talking about, Captain?”**_

“What is this?” Picard looked down at the PADD which B-4 had just handed him. He looked up to see B-4 staring at him with wide eyes. “Bee?”

     “It has been twenty-four hours. Anna told me to give this to you in twenty-four hours.”

     Picard expelled a harsh breath. “Bee, please tell me you didn’t know about Lt. Hall’s plans with regard to Lore.”

     B-4 cocked his head, “Okay. I did not know about Lt. Hall’s plans with regard to Lore.”

     Picard  glanced up at LaForge, who was standing on the other side of the control table. Picard had been in main engineering for hours, doing what little he could to assist with their continued examination of the surveillance footage. Considering the delicate nature of what they were doing, it would have been unwise to involve any more people.

     “Bee, why didn’t you give this to us earlier?” LaForge asked. Before B-4 could respond, though, he quickly raised his hand, “Never mind. I know. Because she told you not to.”

     B-4 nodded.

     LaForge placed the tiny pad on the uplink surface and began the process of accessing it as Picard joined him around the table. Picard did not know Lt. Hall very well, but what he did know had always been exemplary. He was suddenly reminded of a similar incident of which he had not thought in many years. Lt. Hall was not the first under his command to ‘go rogue’, aS some commanders liked to call it. Ensign Ro Laren had done something similar many years before, giving up her career and her very freedom in the Federation to pursue something she believed in. This situation was markedly different, but Picard had a sneaking suspicion that what he was about to read would be very similar to the last words Ro had had for him.

     _Tell the Captain I’m sorry._

LaForge pressed a final key and brought up a screen of text:

 

     _Captain,_

_I know everyone believes Lore is guilty, and I know the evidence is overwhelming. As biased as my opinion in this may be, I must beg you to at least entertain the idea that he has been set up. I think we both know who would benefit the most from all of this, and I will not be vague about it. I truly believe that Captain Maddox murdered Owen Warrick and has managed to fabricate evidence against Lore. I don’t know how he did it. I don’t pretend to have an explanation, but I know it’s true. If only Guinan were still on board, I know she would agree with me, and I know how much you value her opinion._

_As right as I believe I am, I still feel that I owe you an apology, Sir. The actions of your officers and crew reflect upon you, and I can’t begin to count the number of laws I am about to break. But, they will be no more in number than the laws that were broken when they decided to treat Lore like an object for their convenience. I think the rule of law became a joke yesterday, and I see no reason to treat it better than it has treated Lore._

_As a last request, Sir, if you can forgive me enough to undertake it, I would hope you would deliver the letter I have attached in this file to Owen’s parents. I feel he has been forgotten in all of this, and he doesn’t deserve that. I can’t begin to imagine what I would say to his mother, because I know that the reason Owen was targeted was because of his relationship to me. Maddox had to make Lore’s crime believable, and I think everyone knew about the tension between them. Please give them the letter and my sincere condolences. He was a wonderful doctor, and a good man._

_Sincerely,_

_Anna G. Hall_

_(I suppose I will not be calling myself Lieutenant anymore)_

_PS: Should Starfleet order the_ Enterprise _to search for us, I will understand. If that does happen, please be aware that Lore and I intend to make that task as difficult as possible._

     “Wow.” LaForge brought his hand to his mouth and actually laughed.

     Picard too was smiling, though in a rueful sort of way, “I think one of my old Academy professors would have termed this _chutzpah._ ”

     “Chutzpah?” B-4 repeated, trying the word.

     “Never mind.” Picard replied. “Geordie, where are we with the work terminals from holo-engineering?”

     “I wasn’t able to dive too deep without getting noticed, but I can tell you that Maddox did a lot more than just consult. He logged almost twenty hours in a day.”

     Picard’s frown deepened, “There’s no indication what he was working on?”

     “Not on the surface, which is suspicious in itself. It means he at least did a first stage deletion on everything he was doing. He might have done a deeper erasure, but I can’t know without really pulling that console apart. That will definitely get noticed.”

     “I understand. See if we can come up with some kind of maintenance excuse that would allow us to—.”

     “This is for you, Geordie.” B-4 said suddenly. Both men looked up to see B-4 standing on the other side of the table, his arm outstretched with a data chip.

     “What is it?” Geordie took the small green chip.

     B-4 smiled broadly. “It is for Lore, to show everyone that he is not bad.”

     Picard and Geordie exchanged glances. “What do you mean?” Picard said.

     “I was very focused.” He said proudly, “I did a good job, and I saw the difference. Now you will see it too.”

     Another set of curious glances were exchanged, but both men seemed to understand that further questioning wasn’t likely to reveal anything. Picard nodded toward the data chip, and Geordie inserted it into the table top. The screen before them came up with the same footage they had seen a hundred times, the narrow corridor intersection in docking leg D. Picard folded his arms and watched. And watched. Seconds turned to minutes, and nothing happened. Warrick did not enter the frame, and Lore did not attack him.

     “Bee, I’m not sure what you intend for us to see here.” Geordie said, “How far back did you run the footage?”

      B-4 tilted his head as if thinking, then said, “This is nine point six hours before Dr. Warrick enters the corridor.”

      “Yes.” Geordie nodded, seeing the time clock at the bottom of the screen, “But why?”

     Another pause from B-4, then, “Because Dr. Maddox did not believe that anyone would search that far back for a splice point.”

     “What?” Picard was shocked, not only by B-4’s sure use of the terminology, but by his plain assertion that Maddox had anything to do with this. “B-4, how did you come to—.”

     “Please watch, Captain.” B-4 interrupted. “You must be _focused._ Like me!”

     Reluctantly, Picard returned his attention to the screen. Because everything in the image was so still, the change came like a flash. There was no shake of the frame, or grainy line. Nothing so rudimentary as that. Just a single shift on the wall at the right side. Picard’s jaw clenched. When he looked at Geordie, his expression was the same.

     “I don’t believe it.” Geordie muttered. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

     Picard leaned forward and placed a hand on B-4 shoulder. He looked at him for a few seconds, then said, “Bee, I’m starting to think that all of us have been severely underestimating you.”

     He paused again, then said, “Thank you, Captain.”

    

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

SIX HOURS LATER

 

     “Captain, I hope you have a very good reason for asking us here. I have already tasked the _Titan_ with searching for a warp trail on Lore’s vessel.” Admiral Roth said as he took a seat at the other end of the conference table.

     “Believe me, Admiral. I have a very good reason.” Picard intoned. He nodded his head to the other man who had taken his seat at the table. “General Cross, thank you for coming as well.”

     Cross nodded. Since Lore had fled the system the man no longer had jurisdiction and really no longer had anything to do with the case. Still, Picard wanted to make certain that the proper authorities were there to hear everything.

     “I don’t see any reason to delay this. In fact, I see a lot of reasons not to, so let’s get started. Geordie.” Picard nodded toward LaForge, who was standing near the screen at the other end of the room.

     He nodded back, “Okay. What we have here is the footage that everyone has already seen.” He pressed a few keys and the screen began to play the short ten seconds of action they already knew. Geordie stopped the image just where Lore was about to walk off screen.

     “You’re about to tell us this is fake?” Roth said skeptically, “The best people have looked at it, repeatedly.”

     “That’s right, Admiral. There is no manipulation with the footage here. What I mean by that is that the camera _did_ record what was happening in front of it. That’s why the experts found no evidence of overlay or computer generation. However, that does not mean that what we are seeing is real.”

     “A hologram?” Cross offered, “We thought of that. There’s no holo-emitters down there.”

     “I know.” Geordie continued, “Whoever did this didn’t manage to get a hologram into that corridor. He didn’t have to. Lore isn’t the hologram here. _Everything_ is. It’s all fake. The only real thing here is Dr. Warrick.” Geordie raised his hand quickly as both men started to speak. He ran his fingers over the screen again. It split, producing two images, both apparently identical. “On the left, Admiral, is the footage we’ve all seen, just seconds before Dr. Warrick enters the frame. On the right is footage of the same corridor taken from this morning. Do you see the difference?”

     Roth narrowed his eyes while Cross actually rose up in his seat and leaned forward. It was Cross who finally spoke, “That...that light fixture there. It’s broken.”

     “Exactly.” Geordie said, slapping his hands together. “In the footage with Lore, this light fixture is broken. The entire casing is missing and the light doesn’t work. But this morning, suddenly the light is in perfect order.”

     Roth’s skeptical expression fell and he started to lean forward, “And I’m going to assume no one went down there and repaired it since the murder?”

     “Oh, it was repaired all right.” Geordie said, “Ten days ago. I searched through the station’s maintenance logs, and I have it in black and white. That light was reported broken months ago, and was only just repaired in the regular course of maintenance ten days ago. Now, how could it be broken only three days ago when Lore supposedly killed Dr. Warrick, then once again be repaired today?”

     Picard leaned forward and slid a data pad in Roth’s direction, “Admiral, these are the maintenance records that show that light being repaired days before Lore was even in the system. It will also show that the last time that section of the station was imaged for security purposes was months ago. In other words, if someone wanted to bring up a holographic image of that section of the station, for whatever reason, the footage at their disposal would show a broken light.”

     Roth’s forehead was starting to bead with sweat. Cross sat perfectly still, though, his arms folded.

     “But…that still doesn’t explain why we found Dr. Warrick in that corridor.” Roth said, though there was practically no weight in his words. He no longer knew what to think.

     “That’s because part of the _real_ footage was cut out.” Picard replied, “We’ve spent the last six hours digging through computer consoles in holo-engineering _and_ through the buffers on the station’s holodeck.” He turned to General Cross, “Sir, this is why I have requested that you be here. Geordie.”

     He nodded, “We dug this out of the sub frame of holodeck three. When you delete something, it’s never really deleted.”

    Roth stood now and watched the screen like a hawk. The corridor was gone, now replaced by a picturesque mountain climb. The view appeared to be coming through some branches, almost as if the camera were obscured in shrubbery. Dr. Warrick stood by a large boulder, stretching his shoulders and looking out over the artificial terrain with a look of relaxation. He bent down to adjust the cuff of pant leg when suddenly the entire scene around him shifted. The rocky mountainside was transformed into none other than the docking leg D corridor.

     “Where is he?” Roth demanded.

     “He’s further back in the simulation. Watch.” Geordie replied.

     They watched the empty corridor for several seconds until Warrick appeared. Just as they had seen before, he was moving quickly, looking around in confusion until he saw Lore appear in front of him. He took a hesitant step back and said, “ _You_ did his?”

     What followed was what they already knew. After Lore dropped Warrick’s body and disappeared off screen, the image continued rolling on and on. Roth looked at Picard. He nodded and Geordie stopped the playback.

     “It continues for another three hours, Admiral.” Picard said, rising from his seat, “He needed to have enough lead time for a believable loop, plus it was unlikely that footage experts would search so far ahead for a shift point. I myself didn’t look back or ahead any further than an hour.”

     Roth brought his hand to his mouth, “I don’t believe this….How—?”

     “Dr. Warrick’s body must have been transported from the holodeck to the corridor after this point. The way his body was found would have perfectly matched what was recorded on the holodeck.” Geordie said, folding his hands in front of him, “There’s no transporter record, no indication that Dr. Warrick suddenly changed location, because at this time the station main computer was still down. As for getting into the surveillance system, well….That would only require a level two access code, which wouldn’t have been recorded anyway because the computer was down!”

     Roth was staring at the table top, his mind reeling with thoughts that Picard could only imagine, but he hoped among them was a heavy sense of embarrassment.

    Cross rose from his seat suddenly, “You said ‘ _he_ needed enough lead time.’ Who are we talking about, Captain?”

    Picard glanced at Roth, “We recovered these files from a terminal in the holo-engineering lab. The onboard access logs clearly show that Captain Maddox was the only person to use that terminal in the last three days. Plus…Captain Maddox used his position in the holo-engineering lab to reserve one of the station holodecks for more than 14 hours. That would have given him all the time he needed the record what he needed.”

     Cross spun around, almost sending his chair against the wall as he slapped his combadge, “Cross to Middleton! I want a patrol dispatched to the Daystrom Institute and Captain Bruce Maddox’s private residence immediately! I’m issuing an arrest warrant in his name as we speak. No…Don’t argue with me!” Cross’s voice trailed away as he stomped from the room on the warpath, not even bothering to make farewells. As Picard watched the man go, he could not help but allow himself a guilty smile. In addition to framing Lore and murdered a man, Bruce Maddox had made the head of the THD look like a fool. And if there was one thing everyone in the Terrain system knew, it was that you did not cross Cross.

     The three remaining men stood still for a few moments as Roth folded his arms and moved toward the windows. “Captain,” He said finally, “I, um…I think it goes without saying that once we’ve verified everything here through proper channels that we should make certain a more concise version of this new evidence makes it to the media. It would be…eh….”

     “Only fair, Admiral?” Picard added.

     Roth said nothing. He only nodded.

     “What’s unfortunate here, Admiral, is that this discovery was entirely predicated on one thing.” Picard began, “If Maddox had decided to actually go to docking leg D and do his own imaging scan rather than use the old one from the station computer, this flaw would not be there and we would not be having this discussion.”

     Roth’s expression became stony, “In that case, Captain, what would you have preferred? This evidence was damn convincing as it was, even with this flaw.”

     “What would I have preferred? I would have preferred that Lore not be railroaded into a death sentence so that the truth could eventually come out. There were enough people who did not believe in his guilt, Sir, and so even without this mistake on Maddox’s part I have no doubt his innocence would have eventually been proven.” Picard drew back, for his tone had grown increasingly harsh, “This is why the Federation did away with the death penalty, Admiral. So that miscarriages of justice, if found, could eventually be undone. You cannot undo someone’s death.”

     The only reaction Picard could see was the clench of Roth’s jaw as he grinded his teeth. It was only a few moments later that the man left the room without saying a word.

 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

     Lore opened one eye just enough to see past the curtain of his lashes. Anna had his arm, which he had draped over her, by the wrist and was very carefully trying to lift it away from her before placing it back on the bed behind her. He smiled and left his arm limb as she released it and sat up. She gently placed her feet on the deck and rose. Trying not to laugh, he watched her walk quietly toward the bathroom on the other side of the room and, just as quietly, close the sliding door with her hand. He surmised that she must have been terribly exhausted, because she had apparently forgotten that he did not sleep. A few minutes later, as she once again opened the door silently and crept back toward the bed, he made a slow tisking sound.

     “You woke me.” He whispered playfully.

     “Oh, sorry. I—.” She stopped and suddenly pulled a face, “Ha ha. I’ve had a roommate for the past five weeks. It’s a habit.”

     He laughed again and lifted his arm, “Come back here so I can ‘get back to sleep.’”

     “Shut up.” She said as she rejoined him, pulling his arm around her like a blanket. “I’m surprised you have a bed.” She whispered.

     “I had to play human. Remember?”

     “Aboard your ship too?” She said, stifling a yawn.

     “Yes.” He replied as he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, “Teni was here.”

     “Here in your room? Why would she be in your room?”

     Lore frowned, “Um…she wouldn’t be. It was just in case—.”

     “—just in case she wound up in here?” Anna said, suddenly turning to look at him.

     Lore’s jaw worked, but all he did was stutter. “No…no. It was…She….”

     “Lore!” Anna said, suddenly laughing. “I’m making fun of you! Can’t you tell?”

     “Mmm….” He narrowed his eyes, but the look was ruined when he couldn’t help smiling, “I see. Are you feeling better?”

     “Yeees.” Her voice dripped with feigned suspicion.

     “Good.” He suddenly wrapped his arms around her and rolled over, pulling her over him as he placed wild, ticklish kisses against her neck.

     “Ah! Quit it!” She cried as she erupted into laughter. In addition to kissing her, he dug his fingers into her side enough to make her truly struggle. “Argh! This isn’t fair!”

     He laughed, “I know. That’s what makes it so much fun for _me_.”

     She laughed and struggled against him until he finally decided to show some mercy and took his hands away from her sides. As he watched her laugh and bury her face in his shoulder, he truly wanted to enjoy it. He wanted to forget—or neglect—everything that had happened, and simply pretend that this was all that mattered. But he couldn’t.

     “What’s wrong?” She said after a moment, for his hold on her had tightened but he had stopped kissing her.

     He lifted her up so that he could see her face. She was smiling, but he suspected something behind it. “Anna,” He said, “are you pretending to be happy for me?”

     “No. I….” She sighed and lowered her eyes, “Lore….”

     “You miss them, don’t you?” He whispered, “Already?” He hated the way his voice sounded, so regretful. He did not regret it, anything. He regretted the _necessity_ of everything.

     “There’s nothing we can do now.” She said. She ran her fingers over his cheek and forced another weak smile, “Besides, I’m not the only person with someone to miss. What about Bee? You won’t be able to see him. At least, not for a long time.”

     He nodded, “I know.” _But Bee will live for centuries._ He did not say it. It didn’t need to be said. Anna lowered her face back into the curve of his shoulder. She groaned and hugged him tightly.

     “I liked them, you know.” He whispered, “I really did.”

     She looked up again, “You sound surprised.”

     He ran his fingers through her hair and tried to look careless, “I don’t like people who don’t like me. So…yes. I am surprised.”

     She almost smiled. Almost. Instead, she turned her face down and gasped as a sudden bought of sobs overtook her.

     “They _did_ like you.” She gasped. Fresh tears formed in her eyes and began to fall.

     Lore cleared them away with his thumbs and pulled her against him again, “Shhh. Sweetheart, don’t cry. Please.”

     She gasped again and caught her breath, sucking the sobs back. She smiled suddenly, and even laughed a little bit, “Um…what did you call me?”

     “I called you swe—. Agh!” He tilted his head back and groaned, “Troi! Troi said that to me!”

     Anna was laughing again, covering her mouth as she wiped at her wet cheeks, “Troi called you sweetheart?”

     “No.” He said through clenched teeth, “She called me _a_ sweetheart, and I don’t think it was flattering.”

     “Oh, yes.” She said, rolling her eyes, “That’s quite the insult, _sweetheart.”_

“She knew what she was doing.” He insisted, frowning.

     “Well, I like it. Sweetheart.” She laughed again as she leaned forward and placed a kiss directly on his lips.

     “You like being called that?” He asked just before he kissed her back.

     “Maybe.” She shrugged, “But I was talking about you. Yep. Your name’s not Lore anymore. It’s _sweeeetheart.”_

“Anna.” He warned.

     “Yes, sweetheart?” She said innocently.

     Lore lifted his hands to the sides of her ribcage and held them there, “I’m warning you.”

     “It’s worth it,” She said, “Sweetheart. Agh!”

     “Do you give up?” He asked as he put on a faux serious expression.

     “Never! Sweeth—ah!” She laughed wildly as she managed to get free of him just enough to fall on her side on the bed. Lore followed her, rising to his knees and continuing to torment her sides as he hovered over her.

     “I’m not going to be called by that _stupid_ endearment! Do you give up?”

     “Yes! Okay! I quit!” She laughed/cried desperately.

     “Good.” He said just before he took her in a deep kiss. She ran her fingers through his hand and smiled against his lips. “What?” He said.

     “I know Troi didn’t mean it as an insult. She called B-4 a sweetheart. Several times.”

     “Uh huh.” He muttered, rolling his eyes. “Maybe it suits him better.”

     “Definitely.” She laughed. She kissed him again, but then suddenly broke away, “Oh! I can’t believe I forgot!”

     “Forgot what?” He leaned back on his haunches as he pulled her up with him. She immediately crawled to the edge of the bed and set her feet on the floor.

     “B-4!” She said, “He gave me something for you. I forgot about it.”

     “He gave you something?” Lore also stood now, making a half effort to straighten his twisted clothes. “You told him you were planning to rescue me?”

    “Well, more or less.” She admitted. “I didn’t exactly give him details.” She picked up her jacket from the floor near the bed and searched through the pockets. She frowned, then searched in both pockets again. Lore watched as her easy expression quickly became concerned.

     “What’s wrong?” He asked.

     “B-4 gave me a data chip for you. I put it in my jacket pocket.” She turned and began looked around the floor where the jacket had been.

     “What was on it?” Lore asked. He stepped around the bed and looked down on the floor as well, but he saw nothing.

     “I don’t know.” She said, “I didn’t look at it. I…kind of got the impression that is for you specifically.”

     Lore immediately frowned. That did not sound like B-4, not at all. “He told you not to look at it?”

     She shook her head, “No, not outright. He just said to give it to you once we got away.” She continued searching the floor and was clearly becoming very concerned. “It must have come out of my pocket earlier.”

     Lore followed her as she crossed the room and headed back toward the bridge in her sock-clad feet. Her bag and a collection of data pads still lay strewn across an area of the floor on the other side of the control platform. She began picking up all of the pads and scanning the floor as she did.

     “It’s small and green. A standard non-secure chip.” She muttered.

     Lore quickly scanned the deck of the entire bridge. Unless it was underneath something, it was not there. “What about your bag?”

     Anna grabbed it and turned it inside out. Books, a few articles of clothing, and a framed picture of her family tumbled out. She sorted through everything quickly and bit her bottom lip. “It’s not here.”

     Lore was truly beginning to grow worried not. Not because of the loss of the chip, but because of what might potentially be on it. Try as he might, he could think of almost nothing that B-4 would have to tell him that he did not already know, and it sounded very much like that was what he had been trying to do.

     “He gave you no indication of what was on it?”

     Anna stood with the empty bag in her hands. “No. He said, ‘Give this to Lore. He will understand.’”

     Lore frowned. Understand what?

     “Oh!” Anna looked up, shaking her head, “There was something else. I asked him if it was a goodbye for you, and he said, ‘No. It is an explanation.’”

     _This can’t be._ Lore turned away as possible—No! _Im_ possible!—thoughts ran through his mind. He could not pretend that they had not occurred to him before, but they had been so fleeting and so without substance that he had not even given them rational thought. But, this….This was _not_ B-4. There was no reason for him to do something like that.

     “B-4 doesn’t keep secrets.” Lore muttered.

     “What?” Anna said as she took his hand.

     He faced her and his expression was more anguished than even he realized. He said again, “B-4 doesn’t keep secrets, Anna. Not on his own. It’s…It’s not something he’s programmed with, it’s just not something that matches his nature. Even when we were together on Omicron Theta, the only things he ever kept to himself were things that I or Dr. Soong or our mother _told_  him to keep private.”

     Anna shook her head, “Bee told me he could keep a secret. I asked him before I told him about what I was going to do.”

     “If B-4 is keeping secrets, than it’s something he’s learned very recently. And he wouldn’t have learned it without a good reason.” Lore looked away from Anna again. He was afraid to voice the crazy thought that was running through his head. He had no proof. Hell! He didn’t even have a decent indication!

     “Lore.” Looking up at him, Anna’s voice was tense and serious, “This might sound crazy, but….Counselor Troi said something to me once, just a few days after Data was killed. She said that reading B-4 was difficult because she felt like he had, eh, ‘competing emotions’ sometimes, or she would sense something from him but she wouldn’t see any kind of outward expression of it. Lore, she….” Anna sighed heavily, “She said it was like sensing two people sometimes.”

     It took him a moment to show any kind of reaction. He was too stunned and, quite frankly, terrified. If what he was saying, if what _Anna_ was saying, was true, it would be beyond wonderful. And beyond catastrophic. Finally, he let the word escape him.

     “Data.”

     Anna gasped and began shaking her head, “It can’t be. Geordie did so many tests—.”

    “If Data didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.” He covered his face with his hands and groaned as the full reality of it set in. Data was there. He had _always_ been there. In a horrible dichotomy, Lore found himself suddenly wishing that it was not the case, that Data was and remained truly dead. The only reason he would even hope for such a thing was because the alternative was worse for B-4.

     “We have to go back.” He gasped. He stepped forward and took Anna’s hands in his, “We have to get him.”

     Anna nodded her agreement, but she still looked unsure, “What is it? There’s something else that’s making you so worried.”

     She was right. His anguish was written all over his face, “Anna, B-4’s neural net isn’t supposed to be able to handle a personality matrix as complex as Data’s. That’s why Maddox isn’t interested in him. But, if Data _is_ there, it means he transferred more than his memories. He transferred the entire net template. Damn it!” He looked up, cursing himself for being such a damn fool, “It all makes sense! All this progress B-4 has made so quickly. It’s Data! When he transferred his memories and the net template, he must have updated B-4’s. Or…B-4’s personality simply became attached to the new, upgraded pattern.”

     Anna’s cheeks went white in a flash. She released his hands and stepped back, “So…B-4 is just like you and Data now? He’s exactly what Maddox wants? Maddox scanned B-4 himself. It’s possible Bee or Data, or both of them, were somehow manipulating the scan results to show Maddox what they wanted him to see.”

     Lore nodded, “If I’m right, there’s no other explanation. I know I’m making a leap here. We don’t have any proof. There could have been anything on that chip Bee gave you—.”

     “You don’t need to convince me.” She said quickly, “If we need to go back for him, then we need to go back.”

     He lowered his eyes and struggled for a moment. Perhaps he had never been so torn in his life as he was at that moment. His brother, or the only woman he had ever loved. “Maybe you could take the shuttlecraft and find a place to hide until I’m able to—.”

     “Stop right there.” She pressed her fingers over his lips, “Don’t do that. I wasn’t about to let Maddox hurt you, and I’ll be damned if he’s going to hurt Bee.”

     His objections were too many. He said, “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to end up in prison.”

     “The only way I’m going to end up in prison is if we get caught. And if we get caught, well….” She forced a smile as she brought her hands up to his cheeks, “If I can’t get away with you, then what does it matter if I’m in prison?”

     _It would matter to me._ Somehow, he doubted that sentiment would sway her. Instead, he pushed his worry aside and decided to focus on the overwhelming feeling that seemed to be pressing of his chest. She was willing to give up everything but her freedom to save him, and now she was willing to risk that last thing for his brother.

     _Brothers._ “Thank you.” He whispered.

     She nodded. “What I don’t understand is, why wouldn’t Bee say something? I mean, if Data’s there and Bee is aware of it, why keep it a secret?”

     He thought it about it, and it only took him a moment to see the most obvious explanation, “When the _Enterprise_ found Bee, what was he like?”

    Anna shook her head, “You could barely talk to him. He just…made observations that made no sense. He said things like ‘I am in a room with many lights.’ It was like that for a while even after Data.”

     Lore cringed. What she was describing was rudimentary even compared to the B-4 he had known. It was likely that he had been malfunctioning, or that Shinzon’s operatives had done something to him. Regardless, it didn’t matter now. “That’s right.” Lore said, “So, if people had known that Data was in there, who do you think would have taken priority? Either Data is protecting Bee, or Bee is protecting himself.”

     He laughed suddenly. Why did he seem to be doing that so much lately? Was his life really that bitter-sweet? “I can’t believe this.”

     “I know.” Anna agreed.

     “No.” He shook his head, “It all makes sense now. _All_ of it. I’ve never been able to figure out why Data wanted me to come back, why he told Troi to send me that message. It’s because he needs my help. If I had ever gotten a chance to examine those files in Data’s will, I’m sure I would have found that the dates had been manipulated. That letter to Troi was probably written _after_ Data was killed, and I’m willing to bet Bee wrote it.”

     “With Data’s help.” Anna added. She looked nearly as bowled over as he did.

     “Yes.” He took her hands again and gently kissed all over her fingers, one at a time, “I love you.”

     She beamed, and it was such a beautiful sight. “I love you too. I hope you have a plan.”

     “We will.” He assured her. “I can’t imagine getting into the system will be nearly as easy this time, not after I told them how I did it last time.”

     She nodded, “Well, whatever we do, I think we should hurry.”

     He couldn’t agree more, but something in her expression concerned him. “Why?”

     “Because,” She swallowed hard, “If I didn’t lose Bee’s chip somewhere around here, it means I dropped it before I left.”

     She didn’t need to say any more. He understood perfectly. “Right. We have a lot to do.”

 

 

 

    

        

      

    

     

    

    

     

    


	53. Chapter 53

**_“You have not changed….”_ **

     “Hello Margaret Harney. Would you like my assistance?”

     Little Margaret looked up from her place on the carpeted deck and blew some of her floppy hair out of her face. “Yes!” She cried with a little stomp, “They’re everywhere, and it’s all Bradley’s fault! Stupid boy!”

     B-4 knelt down and began to scoop together the dozens of tiny puzzle pieces that had been strewn across the corridor. He had just stepped out of the turbo lift when he witnessed a small human boy sneak up behind Margaret and pull her hair. When Margaret had turned to strike him in response, she had fumbled the little box of puzzle pieces, sending them everywhere.

     “Why did Bradley O’Donnell pull your hair?” B-4 asked. He scooped together a handful of pieces and poured them into the box.

     “Because.” Margaret snapped. She spun around and tried to reach a piece under her own foot, “He’s a stupid boy, and stupid boys do _stupid_ stuff!”  

     B-4 tilted his head and considered, “He is violent because his intelligence is substandard?”

     “Ha!” Margaret hooted, smacking her little fist on the ground, “Yeah! That’s right, I’m gonna tell him that. His intel—intelligence is substandard!” She laughed a little more as she scrambled for a few more pieces. “It’s because he’s a boy. Boys are so stupid.”

     “Oh.” B-4 said, frowning, “I am not stupid, am I?”

     “Noooo.” Margaret said, rolling her eyes, “You’re not a boy, you’re a grownup.”

     “Ah.” B-4 smiled. He would not like someone to think he was ‘stupid.’ “Okay.”

     “Thanks.” Margaret sighed as he deposited a final handful of pieces into the box. She fitted the lid over the top and stood, still sneering in the direction which young Bradley O’Donnell had made his escape.

     “You are welcome. Goodbye, Margaret Harney.” B-4 said with a smile. He made to walk past her and continue on his way to main engineering, but Margaret pulled his sleeves suddenly.

     “Hey! I almost forgot. My Mom told me about your brother.” She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and grinned, “She said he didn’t do that bad thing. That’s so mean! I know, cuz one time _Bradley_ knocked over the pitcher plant in our class, and he told Miss Foster that I did it, but I didn’t!”

     B-4 considered for a moment, “Ah! You are referring to the murder of Dr. Warrick. That is true. Lore did not kill him. Captain Maddox murdered him with the use of a holo simulation.”

     Margaret’s jaw fell open and her bottom lip began to tuck in a little, “M…murder? Like, they thought he killed somebody? I thought he, like, broke something or…or took something, and—I…Aehhh….” Without any kind of warning, little Margaret’s face turned red and her eyes let loose a deluge of tears. She began sobbing hysterically and trying to speak, but B-4 was unable to discern any of her words.

     He took a step back, confounded, “Margaret Harney, are you ill?”

     _Bee, you cannot speak to children in the same manner you would with adults._

     “No!” She cried, rubbing at her face as she dropped her bag, “Just…what…killed…mean!” Those were the only words B-4 could make out. He looked both ways down the corridor, desperate for some kind of assistance. Margaret was crying, and that was not good.

     “I am sorry, Margaret Harney.” B-4 said, his brow knitted up in worry, “Please do not cry.”

     She made a big dramatic sniffle and wiped her sleeve across her nose, soiling it rather profoundly. “Uhhh…okay. That’s so sad.” Another loud sniff.

     “Yes.” B-4 agreed quickly, “It is a bad thing, and bad things are often sad.”

     “Yeah.” Margaret sniffed a few more times and picked up her bag with a sudden shift in mood that only a child could be capable of. “Is Mr. Lore gonna come back then?”

     B-4 frowned suddenly, and his shoulders visibly slumped, “I do not know. Lore had to go away and I do not know if he will come back.”

     “Oh.” Margaret hugged her bag and started twisting her torso in typical, awkward little girl fashion, “You could go get him.”

     “I do not know where he is.” B-4 replied. “I must go now. I am going to help Geordie in engineering. Goodbye.”

     “Okay.” Margaret shrugged, “Bye.”

     B-4 watched the child swing her bag back and forth as she moved down the corridor and disappeared in the direction of the family residences. B-4 continued on his path to main engineering. As he did, he asked Data many questions about children, most of which Data openly admitted he could not answer. He soon moved to questions of Lore and how they may contact him and tell him that everything was okay now and he could come back. Data had many ideas and began laying out methods with which B-4 could suggest the ideas to Geordie and Captain Picard, but at the same time Data suggested that such might not be necessary at all.

     _After Lore learns the truth from the chip you gave Lt. Hall, he may very well choose to return._

     “That is good!” B-4 thought gleefully. He would like very much for Lore to return. He was lonely and worried, and Counselor Troi had once told him that family was very important and should not be neglected. In addition to being worried for Lore and Anna, he was worried for himself. Captain Picard had informed him not too long ago that Dr. Maddox could not be found. He had fled some time ago and was probably long out of the system by now. His mind would, occasionally, run over the memory of the day Maddox had come to examine him and the fear he had felt when the man had come so close to him. Bruce Maddox was a bad man. He had tried to hurt Data a long time ago, and he had tried to hurt Lore only a few days ago! What if he tried to hurt him too?

     _It is alright, Bee. Dr. Maddox does not know about me, so he will have no interest in you. You do not need to be afraid._

     “Okay. If Lore comes back, will he help you then?” B-4 thought as he neared the engineering section. A crewman passed and gave him a warm, meaningful smile. B-4 returned it, though without the meaning, since he did not understand such facial nuance. After only twelve hours, news of Dr. Maddox’s crime had spread to every corner of the system and beyond. It was the top story on all the primary news outlets, and many crewmen had taken it upon themselves to give B-4 their congratulations and apologies in one. B-4 liked attention.

     _If he does, I know he will try._

“That is good.” B-4 thought as he continued on his way, “Your friends miss you.”

     _They are your friends too, Bee. I miss them as well._

“But you see them when I see them.” 

     _It is not the same._

     B-4 nodded and continued on his way, for even though he did not understand the particulars of Data’s meaning, he at least knew the statement was true. It was most definitely _not_ the same. He turned the last corner leading to main engineering, when a hand reached out from the doorway he had just passed and grabbed him by the elbow. B-4 was caught by surprise, and so did not offer the necessary resistance to the tremendous amount of strength that pulled him into the dark room.

     He spun around with his arm out, terrified enough that he did not think to moderate his strength in any way. It was the luckiest occurrence that Lore caught his hand just inches before it would have struck Anna in the face.

     “Bee!” Lore hissed as he stepped between his brother and Anna.

     “Oh!” B-4 cried with delight. He smiled broadly as he looked between the two of them. Anna’s eyes were still wide with adrenaline, and B-4’s smile faded quickly, “I am sorry, Anna. I was…frightened.”

     “It’s alright.” Anna assured him in a whisper.

     Lore released his wrist and stepped close to the door, listening. Anna held a tricorder and regarded the readout. She shook her head and gave Lore some kind of silent communication.

     “You came back.” B-4 said happily, “That is good. Now you can stay and I will not be lonely and Geordie will finish the engine upgrade on time and—.”

     “I’m afraid I won’t be helping LaForge with his engine refit, Bee.” Lore said quickly. “We need to go. Be quiet.”

     “Go? Go where?”  He liked going to the arboretum.

     “We’re leaving, and you’re coming with us.” Anna said as she placed a hand on his shoulder, “But you have to be quiet and do what we say. Okay?”

     B-4 smiled, “Okay. I can be qu—.”

     _Do not go with them, Bee. They are making a mistake._

He took a step back, away from Anna, and shook his head, “I do not wish to leave the _Enterprise.”_

Lore turned, “I know, but we have to. Trust me.” He looked at Anna.

     “We have a clear path to science lab three, but that could change really fast. We have to go.” She lowered the tricorder and gave B-4 an encouraging smile.

     “Good. Let’s go.” Lore stepped close to the door and, grabbing B-4 by the sleeve, opened the door and rushed out into the corridor. They moved quickly, Anna taking up the rear as they doubled back away from main engineering.

     B-4 ran along, unwilling and unaccustomed to resisting Lore in anything, but he was growing more troubled by the moment.

     _Stop them, Bee! They do not understand!_

Bee gave some resistance finally when they were a few steps from science lab three. Lore turned back, his face etched in panic and anger.

     “Bee, what are you doing!” Lore demanded. “You have to come with us!”

     “No!” B-4 cried. “You do not have to!”

     “Bee!” Lore stepped close and gave his brother a very serious look. Then, a strange smile crossed his lips and he whispered, “Tell Data to shut up.”

     _You have not changed…._

     B-4’s eyes widened in a bizarre mix of shock and joy, “You know! That is good. Data, he knows!”

     Lore grinded his teeth against his brother’s sudden, very loud, outburst, and attempted to drag him into the science lab.

     “People are coming!” Anna whispered, “We need to go!”

     Lore shoved B-4 ahead of him into the dark lab and closed the door behind them. Seconds later they all heard the sound of boots and voices passing by. He rushed to Anna’s side so that he could examine the tricorder readout as well.

     “If we can get a clear path to auxiliary storage, here, we’ll be able to use the Jefferies tubes the rest of the way.” Lore said. Anna nodded her agreement and turned to face B-4.

      “Bee, you have to listen to us. There’s a chance that Maddox might know about Data, so you have to come with us so that we can keep you safe.”

      _Did Maddox gain access to the chip?_

      “Did Maddox gain access to the chip?” 

      “It’s possible.” Anna said. She lowered her eyes suddenly, “I…I lost the chip. I’m sorry, Bee. I don’t know where, it might have been in Maddox’s lab.”

      “My ship is cloaked and docked at the underbelly emergency hatch on deck twenty-eight.” Lore said quickly, “We can’t transport, because it would set off the alarms. You have to come with us and be quiet.”

     “But…but you can stay here.” B-4 said, “It is safe here. Maddox ran away.”

     “Please don’t argue. We need—.” Lore stopped and narrowed his eyes, “What? Maddox did what?”

     _Tell them! Everything!_

“Captain Maddox was—.”

     “Our path is clear, but not for long!” Anna announced, darting toward the door, “Come on!”

     Lore grabbed his brother’s arm again and tried to give him a quick look of reassurance, “Bee, you can tell me everything, you can tell me anything you want, but not right now.”

     B-4 wallowed in confused agony as Data shouted in his mind and Lore dragged him by his arm. Once again, they were out in the corridor, running. They turned a corner and voices could very distinctly be heard up ahead. Anna gasped and actually shook her tricorder.

     “No! They shouldn’t be there! They’re not on the—.”

     “This way!” Lore darted to his left down a wider corridor. Each of them, including B-4, knew that it would dead-end in one of the aft cargo bays, but there was no other choice now. They ran into the darkened room and toward the side wall where a waist height hatch would gain them access to the Jefferies tubes. They slowed a bit, believing their current position safe, and proceeded to open the hatch.

     Anna gasped and leapt back as the double doors behind them suddenly opened. There had been no indication of people approaching on her tricorder. Lore spun around and raised his weapon.

     “Lore, stand down!” Picard shouted as he entered at the head of the group. He was accompanied by LaForge, Worf, and Seven of Nine. Seven of Nine held a tricorder, which she folded shut and clasped with both hands.

     “I think I’ll ask the same of you, Captain.” Lore retorted, “I didn’t come here to hurt anyone. It will be in your best interest to stay out of my way.”

     “It will be in _your_ interest to stop being a damn fool.” Picard said stonily, “Lower your weapon and listen to me.”

     Lore continued to walk back, “Bee, come here.”

     Bee stepped forward, though his eyes rested on Lore’s weapon in a kind of concerned confusion. “Lore, you will not hurt Captain Picard, will you? That would be bad.”

     “Take this.” Lore riffled in his pocket and removed a tiny device, which he shoved into his brother’s hand, “Go. Anna, take him.”

     Anna gasped and shook her head, despite following the instruction. She took B-4 by the arm and guided him back. She had in her hand a similar device to the one Lore had just produced.

     “Damnit, Lore! Listen! We know you’re innocent!” Picard insisted, “You don’t have to do this.”

     “You know I’m innocent.” Lore sneered, “How convenient. I don’t believe you. I think you’ll say anything to get me to lower my weapon. Anna, go. Please!”

     “Captain Riker and the _Titan_ are prepared to follow you at a moment’s instruction.” Seven of Nine informed him, clasping her hands behind her back. She seemed utterly unconcerned about the phaser pointing in her direction.

      “Really? And how do you plan to do that?” Lore scoffed.

      Seven shrugged, “By using the same means I did to detect your vessel as it reentered the system and docked  at the deck twenty-eight emergency hatch. I planted a homing beacon into the pattern enhancer I gave to Lt. Hall.”

     Anna’s eyes widened and her face contorted into a scowl.

     Lore rolled his eyes, “I’ll be thoroughly impressed and outraged later, but thanks for the information. I’ll be sure to destroy the pattern enhancer right away. Now, _get back_.”

     B-4 gasped suddenly and felt what could only be described as a sudden dampening of his surroundings. As if everything were being pushed back, the sights, the sounds, the smells. He could still experience all of it, but it was now dulled, second-hand. Sensation left him, and he realized that he could no longer control any of his motor functions. The sensation was…terrifying.  

     B-4 pulled away from Anna suddenly and lifted the transporter tag Lore had given him. He crushed it in his palm and allowed the pieces to fall to the deck. He turned and gave Lore a frown of disapproval.

     “You have always been arrogant and reactionary.” B-4's voice had changed, the pitch slightly lower, and the cadence more fluid and nuanced. He shook his head and sighed, “You have more friends than you believe, Lore. It would be to your benefit to remain silent long enough to listen to them, especially when they are telling you the truth.”

      The last words echoed off the cavernous walls of the cargo bay and everyone, including Picard, stared at B-4. Slowly, Lore lowered his weapon and everyone heard the faint click as the safety was engaged.

     He smirked and gave his brother a bemused look, “Hello to you too, Data.”

     Picard gasped and narrowed his eyes, almost suspiciously. Worf and Geordie exchange silent looks of disbelief. What else were they to do, faced with such an absurd statement?

     Picard took a tentative step forward, which was met with B-4—Data—crossing the space toward him.

     “Captain,” Data said, “I am afraid I will not be able to speak with you for long. What I am doing to B-4 right now is unfair and a violation.”

     Picard closed his eyes and seemed to be going through a hard kind of mental calculation. He nodded mutely, but his jaw was grinding. Data turned around and faced Lore.

     “Captain Maddox murdered Dr. Warrick.” He said quickly, “We discovered that he had replicated the sub-level corridor on the holodeck, allowing Dr. Warrick to be murdered there by a holographic version of you. He then transported Dr. Warrick’s body into position and replaced the surveillance feed with the one from the holodeck. You have been exonerated, Lore. There is no need for you to flee.”

     “Yes, that…that’s right.” Picard added, still shooting disbelieving glances at Data. The man looked shaken, truly shaken, which was saying something considering Picard’s notorious penchant for remaining calm in all instances. He forced himself, however, to look at Lore and Anna, “Maddox is gone. He must have known that we would discover his crime eventually because he left the system only a few hours after your escape. No one can find any indication of where he went.”  

      “Lore, I must urge you not to attempt to follow him.” Data said quickly, “There would be no benefit.”

      Lore scoffed and shook his head, “Relax, dear brother. My thirst for revenge isn’t what it used to be. I don’t give a damn about Bruce Maddox.”

      There was another awkward silence for a few seconds. It was finally broken when Geordie walked forward, his face twisting up into a disbelieving smile. “Data…. Is it really you?”

      “Yes, Geordie. I am glad to see you. Although….” Here, Data actually smiled somewhat facetiously, “I have seen you virtually every day.”

      Geordie laughed and ran both hands over his hair, still too shocked for any kind of coherent response.

      Lore watched all of this with an unprecedented sense of relief, but he could not allow himself to forget everything. He stepped close to Anna and gave her a questioning look before he turned back to the others, “Picard, I’m not going to allow Anna to go to prison for anything, so unless you can tell me that’s an impossibility, I think we’ll be leaving you now.”

     Picard closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. There was a kind of guilty pleasure in it too, as if he were thinking of something to which he truly looked forward. “I don’t think _that_ will be an issue at all. Admiral Roth is not exactly in the best possible political situation right now. He needs friends. Badly.”

     Data shot him an encouraging nod, which Lore was apt to take. At the back of the group, he could still see Worf giving him a displeased frown, so he laughed and tossed the phaser through the air in an arch. Worf caught it easily and tucked it into his belt with a barely satisfied snarl.

“Captain,” Data said, “I cannot continue this, but B-4 will speak to you. I feel that…that we have much to discuss.”

     “I would say so, old friend.” Picard agreed. He placed a hand on Data’s shoulder and finally allowed himself a full smile, “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

     “You as well, Sir.” Data replied, smiling.

     Lore squeezed Anna’s hand again, for he was desperate to make some kind of expression of the disbelief he was currently experiencing. So much had gone wrong. So many things had conspired against him for so long that he was finding it difficult to believe that it could be any other way. And yet, here he stood watching a group of people who by all rights should hate him, but who had placed enough faith in him to search out the proof of his innocence. It was…too much.

     “Come on.” Anna whispered, close to him. She was smiling with the same kind of giddy disbelief. “Let’s uncloak your ship and dock her. I don’t think we need to hide now.”

     He nodded. He was afraid to speak. He had the terrible suspicion that his voice would not sound right, that it would crack and humiliate him! He was relieved to see that the others were already making their way from the room, Picard deep in discussion with Data. He and Anna followed at a distance large enough to allow the cargo bay doors to close after the others. He stopped and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her from the deck and spun her around crazily, causing her to laugh and wrap her arms around his neck. It was just the explosive kind of reaction he needed.

      “I don’t believe this.” He gasped against her shoulder, “I can’t believe this.”

      “Believe what?” She said, smiling, “That you have friends? I wish I could say ‘I told you so’, but I can’t. I wouldn’t have believed it either. Lore, I…. I know you have so much to say to Data, and I want to be there with you when you do, but I…I need to….”

      “You need to see your family.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I understand. I’ll wait for you.”

      “No. I want you to come with me.” She said.

     He frowned, unsure, “Anna…a few billion people have seen an image of me murdering someone with my bare hands. Maybe we should wait until you’re sure your family accepts—.”

     “They’ll understand. I’ll make them.” She kissed him on the cheek, “Please.”

     He nodded.

     “I think you should get that phaser back from Lt. Worf, though.” She said with a sigh.

     He smirked, “I see. Why?”

     She stepped back from him and chewed her bottom lip for a moment. She pressed her hand to her forehead and sighed, “Because I think we’re both going to need it.”

 

 

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

FOUR HOURS LATER

 

     “A note? A note! Do you have any idea what you’ve put me and your father through! Dear God, when I heard on the news that they chased you, that they had phasers!” Katherine Hall waved her hand in the air as she paced back and forth. In her other hand she held a crumpled up tissue, which she had already worked into soggy ball, “You’re lucky I didn’t have a heart attack!”

     “Mom, please!” Anna groaned from her place at the piano bench. She rubbed her hands roughly over her face, “What was I supposed to do? They were going to kill him.”

     “Oh, I—I don’t know!” Katherine pressed her lips together and groaned, “I swear, if you ever do anything like that to us again, Annabelle Grace Hall, so help me!”

     Lore snorted from his place in the parlor entryway. “Anna _belle_? You name is Anna _belle_?”

     “Oh, not now, Lore….” Anna muttered.

     “And you!” Katherine shouted, swinging her finger in Lore’s direction, “You had better be worth it! You better be in love with her, or…I…oooh….” The balled up tissue in Katherine’s hand was quickly twisted into shreds, which fell to the carpet ominously.

     “I am! I mean…I do!” Lore said, raising his hands in surrender. 

     “She’s not kidding.” Louise laughed from her place on the staircase. She nodded down at Lore and used her hand to make a dramatic cutting motion across her neck.

     “Louise.” Eugene warned. It was the first thing Lore had heard from the man, who was standing near the front windows with his arms folded across his chest. Lore was quickly beginning to see that Mr. Hall was a man of few words.

     “Mom, I’m…I’m sorry.” Anna groaned.

     “I know, honey.” She crossed to Anna and smothered her in a big hug. Anna said something else, but it was lost in the muffling of her mother’s shoulder.

     Lore looked away. He felt like an intruder, and was really beginning to wish he had remained aboard the _Enterprise._ He had little doubt that Picard and LaForge were itching to discuss options for what to do for Data. Still, Anna had wanted him there, and that was what he cared about.

     Anna broke from her mother and stood, wiping her face quickly. She looked all around at her father, Louise, and Beth, who had as yet said nothing. Beth sat at a small table near the windows with a white linen cloth spread out before her. She wore gloves of a similar material and was, very meticulously, using a jeweler’s glass to examine the handle of her antique Colt revolver.

     Lore managed to keep himself from laughing. It just seemed like such an odd thing to be doing at the moment.

     Anna crossed the room as she wiped at her cheeks a few more times. She stopped before Beth’s table and made a kind of bitter smile, “Sorry, Beth.”

     Beth kept her eyes firmly on the gun as she picked up a cotton swab and dabbed at something. As she spoke, her voice was calm, “Why did you have to throw it into a bunch of gravel? The barrel is scratched.”

     Anna laughed, but her eyes started to water again, “Yeah, I…I’m sorry.”

     Beth nodded, but the action was accompanied by a tremble which caused her to shake the gun and lower it. Her brow was beginning to knit up in some show of emotion. Lore watched, fascinated, and wondered which half of the woman would win out; Vulcan or Betazoid? He got his answer when Beth suddenly dropped the revolver onto the table and wrapped her arms around her sister’s shoulders.

     “If you ever do something like that again, I will _kill you._ ” Beth cried through clenched teeth.

      “Wow, Beth.” Anna laughed through her tears, “You really care about your antiques.”

     “Oh, shut up!” Beth grumbled, though she too laughed. She pulled back suddenly and wiped her face in a kind of frantic action, as if the tears were stinging her. “I…I have to go for a walk!”

     Lore pressed himself against the doorframe, lest the woman plough into him in her attempt to flee the barrage of emotions suffocating her. The front door blew shut behind her as she disappeared into the frosty afternoon.

     “I’d better go with her.” Louise said. She clambered down the steps and grabbed two coats from the hook before she darted out the door. Beth had neglected to take her own, and Vulcans were not exactly known for their tolerance of the cold.

     “So, then….” Eugene finally said. The man pushed himself away from the window and ambled a few steps further into the room. He gave his daughter an encouraging smile, then faced Lore, “What are you going to do?”

     Lore hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he understood what the man was asking. “Do?”

     Eugene sighed, and Lore quickly got the impression that the man was about to say something uncomfortable, “What I mean is, where will you go now, and what will you do? You’re not in Starfleet. I seriously doubt you have any interest in cybernetics or those Daystrom Institute people, so….” He shrugged and gave Anna a pained kind of look.

      Lore raised his brow with some surprise. This was certainly something he had never thought he would experience in his life. Anna’s father was actually asking him what he _did for a living._ The very notion of the question was bizarre to him, a person who had spent the majority of his, admittedly, short life doing whatever he wanted wherever he wanted. He had had goals, certainly, but….Well, everyone knew plenty about his past goals. What was his goal now? What did he want to do?

     Lore shrugged, “I plan to remain aboard the _Enterprise_ until Picard retires or he ejects me. The last one is more likely. I don’t believe Picard or LaForge will demand that I hold some kind of formal rank to remain there. I’ve more than proven my value to them, if….” Here, he allowed himself a little smirk, “If they’re willing to tolerate me.”

     Eugene chuckled a bit and nodded, “So, then, you’re not going to take my daughter and your ship and disappear to God-only-knows where on the other side of the quadrant?”

     Lore shot Anna an amused look, which she returned with a shake of her head. He replied, “No. I think Picard will accomplish that on more official terms.”

     “Mmm.” Eugene scoffed, “And you, young lady, don’t you dare wait _three years_ to come home again. I would like you to watch me and your mother age slowly, so it’s not such a shock every time you see how decrepit we’ve gotten.”

     Anna smiled broadly and nodded her immediately agreement, “I promise.”

     “Oh, I…I’m going to make some coffee!” Katherine said suddenly, though all of them could see that the outburst was only to cover a fresh wave of tears. She disappeared toward the kitchen, where the sound of clanging pots and cups started almost instantly.

     Lore crossed the room, gave Anna a conspiratorial wink, and shouted, “Why don’t you just use the replicator? It’s faster!”

     A loud clang, followed by, “We don’t replicate coffee in this house!”

     Lore smirked and stifled his laughter. Eugene rolled his eyes and began walking toward the kitchen.

     “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you?” Eugene muttered, “She’s going to replicate a pot and then make you try both, and you had _better_ say the homebrewed coffee is better.”

     “I can tell the difference.” Lore assured him, “I will.”

     “Good.” He shook his head again, “Anna, I think he might just get along around here.” With that, he walked with folded arms into the kitchen where Katherine immediately began making her assertions that Lore didn’t know ‘jack’ about coffee, and she would show him, etc.

     Anna approached him and placed her hands flat on his chest. He quickly placed his hands over them and messaged her fingers.

     “I think you know a lot more about humans than you let on.” Anna said accusingly.

     “I don’t know what you mean.” He replied.

     “Uh-huh.” She said with a smirk, “Whatever you say. Did you mean what you said about the _Enterprise_? That you have no problem staying there?”

     “Of course.” He replied. He frowned a bit, and continued, “Why wouldn’t I? I don’t want to be anywhere else. For the last two years, it’s the only place I have wanted to be.”

     She laughed and turned her hands to hold his, “You don’t mind being a worker bee? If I remember correctly, you once told LaForge that you ‘weren’t his damned puppet’?”

     Lore dropped his jaw a bit, “I said that to him the second time he tried to make me work with someone else. You knew about that?”

     She shrugged, “It’s a small ship, and besides….I was ‘interested’, remember?”

     _Ah, yes…._ That memory certainly brought a smile to his face, the day Anna admitted to him that she had been ‘interested’ in him almost from the beginning. Still, he shrugged and said, “I know what you’re asking me, Anna. You’re asking me if I can follow orders and be a nice Starfleet crewman. I won’t lie to you. The answer is probably no. The good news is that I know more about warp theory, weapons design, and a litany of other topics than LaForge could possibly imagine. I seriously doubt I will spend much of my time cleaning plasma conduits. LaForge is in love with his ship and he will never refuse an upgrade. I can already think of several dozen.”

     “You’ve been giving this some thought, haven’t you?”

     _Some thought_ , for Lore, could be accomplished in a three seconds, but he had been thinking of this subject for the past three hours, so…. “Yes, I have. And…and there’s Data to consider.”

     “Right.” She nodded, “What are you going to do?”

     “Everything I can. It may not be as simple as building another body, but even if it is, that alone could take quite some time.” He leaned close to her and pressed her nose just against hers, “We’re not tinker toys, you know.”

      She laughed and kissed him quickly, for her father just entered the room again. Even a woman of forty-one would rather not kiss a man in front of her father.

     Eugene smirked and rolled his eyes, “Come on. Your mother has _two_ pots of coffee ready for us.” He shot Lore a warning look, which Lore met by raising his hands I surrender.

     “Okay.” Anna gave Lore a final smile as they all moved into the kitchen. Sure enough, Katherine had set out two pots of coffee, and had even poured the replicated brew into one of the beaten up carafes so no one could cheat. She poured out two cups and slid them toward Lore.

     “Humph! You try both of these and you tell me which is better?” Katherine challenged as she rested a hand on her hip.

     Lore sighed and obediently sipped from the first cup. It was the home brewed coffee. He could easily tell because the mixture was  uneven and  the microscopic tinge of the pot metal, well below what any human could sense, was evident. He set it aside and tasted the second one, which had a perfectly uniform mix and no hint of metal cross contamination. It did not _taste_ better, he could simply tell which was which.

     “So?” Katherine pressed, smiling confidently, “Let’s hear it.”

     Lore glanced at Anna, who was tolerating it all with a little roll of her eyes, then looked at Eugene. What had he promised himself the last time he was in this house?

     _Let them see you as you are._

     He raised the cup of _replicated_ coffee and said, “You made this one, definitely. It’s wonderful.”

     “That’s it! Get out!” Katherine fumed. Lore broke into a fit of laughter as both Anna and Eugene groaned. Katherine picked up the pot of replicated coffee and poured the whole thing down the sink with a splash.

     “Aw, don’t be angry, Katherine.” Lore crooned.

     “Louise was right about you.” Katherine said with a glare, though it was plain there was no real malice behind it, “You _are_ a smart ass! Get out of my kitchen!”

     Anna grabbed him by the top of his sleeve and began pulling him toward the den. It was plain she was trying to hide it, but he could see a real storm of laughter waiting behind her pressed lips. As soon as they were clear of the kitchen, she pressed her face into his shoulder and let loose some near silent, shaking laughs.

     “Does she hate me now?” He asked.

     “I doubt it.” She managed to say as she caught her breath. She hugged him suddenly, and pressed her smiling lips against the side of his neck, causing him to shiver. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” He said at once.  _I love all of this._ He did not say the last thought, for he did not believe he had to. He held Anna, gently kissing the side of her temple for as long as he could, until Eugene stomped back into the room to announce that Katherine had begun the process of baking a three layer carrot cake, and it was _all Lore’s fault._

      He could not, however, stay long enough to sample the cake and appease Katherine’s bruised ego. LaForge wanted him to return to the _Enterprise_ so that the process of helping Data could get under way. He knew they weren’t going to like what he had to say about the difficulties, about the time frame. But, it was what it was, and he would not do anything that might help Data at the expense of B-4.

     He kissed Anna goodbye in the front hall and she told him she would be with him in a few hours. He knew that she would and it somehow made all the difficulties he was about to face seem not so daunting. There was much work to be done in so many arenas, but Lore looked forward to it all, for he now had a goal. He finally, after all this time, felt like he had _purpose_ again and it was a purpose for which he would never suffer any remorse or regret. Anna, Data, and B-4; they were his purpose.

     Finally.

     There would be no more regrets.

 

 

 

     

    

 

    

 

 

    

      

    

      

    

    


	54. Chapter 54

**Epilogue**

**Seven Months Later**

     _This is bizarre. Just…bizarre._

“By the power vested in me by the North West Governance and the United Federation of Planets, I now declare husband and wife.”

     The groom virtually leapt forward and encased the bride in a bear hug. He kissed her like a starving man before burying his face in her neck and, if her giggling was any indication, began to tickle her with rough neck kisses.

     “I don’t think _that’s_ traditional.” Lore smirked from his place in the third row.

     Anna snorted. “It’s not. Hey! Get a room, you two!”

     Trevor Logan finally managed to bring himself under enough control to face the yard full of wedding guests with a grin. Louise lifted her bouquet of sunflowers like a trophy and actually hopped in place a few times. Everyone stood and applauded as the two came down from the flower covered gazebo and began making their way down the center aisle. Despite the supposed happiness of the occasion, Lore was surprised and confused by the number of people he saw crying.  Katherine, who stood in the row just before him, was a blubbering mess of running makeup and soaked handkerchiefs.

     “Oh, my God.” She sighed, “Those two….Who would have ever thought it?”

     “Me," Beth deadpanned.

     Eugene shook his head and waved at his youngest daughter as she passed by, “All I can say is thank God. Maybe now they’ll stop turning the town inside out trying to kill each other.”

     “I believe the mayor said he might lift the ban.” Beth said, “They can both go the library at the same time now.”

     Lore shook his head with too much amusement, “You humans are weird.”

     “Weird?” Anna laughed and took his arm as everyone began to shuffle out of the aisles and around the back of the house.

     “Yes.” Lore said, “Your nephew is very fond of that word, and I think I’ll adopt it. You’re all _very_ weird.”

     Beth gave Lore a glance over her shoulder as they walked, “I will not disagree.”

     The wedding ceremony took place in the Hall’s back yard, which had been made up with flowers and chairs and all manner of frilly white decoration. Lore took it all in curiously as everyone made their way to the front yard and the area where the reception was to be held. Anna had informed him that the reception was the real point of it all, and was likely to last several hours. A dozen large round tables filled the front lawn, each covered with cloths and dishes and silver accoutrements for which Lore could not discern any real purpose beyond the decorative. There was an open space between the tables, where the lawn had been covered by a smooth wooden floor. Gene currently occupied the center of the space, and was busy spinning his little sister around in some version of a dance they had made up.

     “So…” Lore whispered, “Everyone is going to eat a meal and then it’s over?”

     Anna laughed deviously, “Oh, no. There’s much more torture than that.”

     “Such as?” He pressed. He was not particularly irritated or trying to get away, he was just curious. Considering how circumspect Anna had been, he had a right to be. He was beginning to think she was having fun keeping him in the dark.

     She shrugged, “Usual party stuff.”

     “I’ve never been to a party.” He reminded her. His statement was outrageous enough to make Katherine and Eugene stop in front of them. Katherine faced him with a look of surprise.

     “What do you mean you’ve never been to a party?” She said, “No…no birthday parties? Retirements, nothing?”

     Lore shrugged. Considering his past, it was not an unbelievable thing. He had indeed _never_ been to a party. The few minutes he had once spent in Ten Froward during Guinan’s birthday party could hardly be counted, since he had not been invited or involved.

     “Well, this should be a treat then.” Katherine said. She gave Anna a look, “I hope he knows how to dance.”

     Lore frowned, “I learned. Specifically.”

     Katherine and Eugene laughed and continued into the crowd to accept congratulations and other well wishes for Louise. Lore stood with Anna near the porch steps for a moment as he continued to look around. Except for Anna’s immediate family, he did know any of the other guests. It was an issue to which he had already given much thought and which he and Anna had discussed. While he had no issue keeping company with people who might have a problem with him, he had no desire for Anna to feel uncomfortable or put upon. That last thing he wanted was for Anna to be placed in some kind of situation where she felt the need to defend or justify him.

     Oddly enough, such a problem had yet to come up. It seemed that being falsely accused of murder and almost killed himself was what it finally took to get the benefit of the doubt in general.

     “Hey.” Anna whispered, squeezing his hand, “Wanna dance?”

     He smiled down at her, “If I don’t it will be a useless skill.”

     “Exactly.” She said as she took his hand and led him toward the dance floor, which was already filling up with people who were antsy from sitting through the ceremony. Lore did not know the song, but guessed it to be some kind of band piece from the mid Twentieth century. Louise clearly had a favor for that time period.

     As they stepped onto the floor, Lore took her hand and spun her around smoothly. She ended the spin close against him with hardly a fault, which set off the dark green silk of her dress wonderfully. She laughed. “Are you planning to show off today?”

     “Why not?” He shrugged, “You are.”

     Anna narrowed her eyes, “I am?”

     “Yes. You brought me. If that’s not showing off, I don’t know what is.” As if to prove his point, he spun her around again in an easy gesture.

     "Uh-huh. Aren't you the one who once told me not to compliment you because you might become too vain to be tolerable?”

     “That doesn’t sound like something _I_ would say.” He grinned.

     “Okay, but on that note….” She made a dramatic show of looking around, then whispered, “Yes, I’m definitely showing off.”

      _Mmmm…._ He spun her around a few more times and continued to move around the dance floor. Because he was enjoying himself so much, and because he did not feel like testing the receptiveness of the other guests in pointless small talk, they both danced through three more songs. By then, the guests had begun to fill in their places at the various tables, and the dinner was being laid out. Louise and Trevor had reappeared, and were seated at the middle of a long table which faced the rest of the guests. The music stopped when someone tapped a glass with their knife.

      “Come on.” Anna whispered. They moved off the dance floor and to the table closest to the front. Beth and Amy were already seated at the table, along with Amy’s husband Paul and their two oldest children, Gene and Angie. The sun had set early in the winter sky and the entire front lawn was lit with hanging paper lanterns and table candles all around.

     Lore glanced at Anna as they took their seats, trying to ignore the fact that more of the guests appeared to be watching him than the bride. Her hair was piled up in a loose twist that allowed small curls to fall around her face, framing it perfectly. Unable to help himself, he leaned toward her and whispered.

     “You look beautiful, Anna.”

     She tried to conceal her smile, for Amy was shooting her a teasing a grin from across the table. To cover it further, she picked up her fork and began poking at the salmon on her plate.

     “Speech! Speech!” The cry rose up as Trevor’s best man stood behind his seat at the front table. He held a glass of champagne in one hand a baseball in the other. Several people in the crowd laughed.

     “Okay, okay….” He said, waiting for quiet, “Before my speech, I want to let you know what we’re doing. Whoever has the baseball has to give a speech about either the groom or the bride, and whoever talks last can toss it to whoever they want. So, you better think of something to say now.”

     “Oh, God….” Anna laughed. The man began his speech in the typical best man flare, making fun of his friend and mentioning more than a few crazy episodes from Louise and Trevor’s lifelong feud, including something to do with industrial adhesive and a lunch box handle. The ball then made its way to one of Louise’s school friends, who playfully predicted that Trevor would be dead in a month. Lore even had to laugh at that one. At least he did until he felt something warm press against his hip.

     “Anna, that animal is trying to get my attention again.”

     “What?” Anna looked down, “Oh! Maggie, what are you doing? She likes you.”

     “She does not like me. She’s merely figured out that I’m the best option for getting food.”

     Gene and Angie laughed and tried to lean over the table far enough to see Maggie, who was insistently bumping her nose into Lore’s leg. He rolled his eyes again and picked up his plate, which he hadn’t touched.

     “Here.” He said, as he held out the plate and dumped its entire contents onto the ground with a splat.

     “Ah, awesome!” Gene cried as he practically crawled on the table to watch Maggie dig into the mixed pile of salmon and rice.

     “Yuck!” Angie sniffed, “Mom! Lore gave all his food to the Maggie!”

     “Squealer! It’s not like he wanted to eat it anyway.” Gene made a face at Lore and said, “You’re weird.”

     “ _You’re_ weird.” Lore shot back, along with the face.

     “Oh, God….” Anna laughed.

     “Paul, heads up!” Someone shouted, but Paul was too busy trying to keep his daughter’s hair out of one of the tea lights, and was oblivious to the baseball headed his way. Seeing the impending disaster, Lore reached out and caught the ball right in front of Paul’s face.

      “Oh!” The cry went up from several corners, followed by hoots and muttered comments.

     Lore frowned and shoved the baseball into Paul’s hand, but that only seemed to get a larger response from everyone.

     “No, no!” Louise cried from her seat, “You caught it. Speech! Speech!” She started slapping the table, “Speech! Speech!”

     Lore looked at Anna, but she shrugged helplessly, “You’d better get up.”

     _You’ve got to be kidding me…._ Lore rose to his feet with such a show of misery that the other guests must have thought it was an act, because they started laughing hysterically. Anna put her glass in his hand and he raised it, as he had already seen the other speakers do. It quickly became quiet.

     _Oh, great…._ “Eh…I met Louise when I walked into the house unannounced and scarred her nearly to death in the kitchen.” He began, not being sure of what else to say about her. It seemed to work though, for the laughter continued, “She threatened me with a knife and called me ‘nuts’, which happened a few minutes before she spilled a platter of lasagna on me.”

     To this, Louise cracked up and slapped the table top several times.

     Lore smiled. _This isn’t so bad._ “Over the next several hours that day, I experienced several firsts, which included Louise calling me a smart-ass, a goof-ball, and a ‘love-bird’.” He put on a playful scowl, which he shot in Louise’s direction, “I’ll let everyone guess which of those three I disliked the most.”

     “Looove bird!” Louise crooned, pointing a teasing finger at Anna. Anna raised her hand and scratched a small itch under her eye with her middle finger, which elicited several approving hoots.

     Lore smirked and continued, “I think tradition dictates that I congratulate the two of you, but I’m afraid I have to agree with Louise’s friend Mary. Trevor, I think you’re going to be dead in less than a month, probably bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat. Good luck.” Over the chaos of amused applause that followed, Lore made eye contact with Eugene and tossed the ball to him.

     “That was perfect.” Anna whispered as he retook his seat. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, which caused him to gasp and shift his eyes. He was still not accustomed to Anna showing him affection in front of other people, but he loved the she did. In fact, she seemed to insist upon it.

     “What are they doing now?” Lore asked, for several of Trevor’s friends had suddenly entered the dance floor with a chair, which they set up dead center.

     Anna laughed and squeezed his arm, “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot about this! They’re going to do the garter dance.” Seeing Lore’s confused frown, she added with a grin, “Trevor is going to remove Louise’s garter from under her dress.”

     Lore’s eyes widened. “You weren’t joking.”

     “When?”

     “When you said today would be torture. Why would this ceremony include the removal—?” Lore stopped talking when his communicator beeped several times. He removed it from the inside of his suit jacket.

     “It must be important.” She said, shrugging, “Maybe Geordie made a lot more progress with the new unit, and he calling to tell you.”

     Lore nodded. It would most certainly have to do with either B-4 or the new android unit they had been building for the last four months. He and LaForge, still, were not exactly chat buddies. He stood and moved away from the babble of the wedding as people already started to cheer Louise’s arrival on the dance floor. Lore stopped near a large tree just at the edge of the yard and tapped the comm.

     “Lore here.”

     _“This is LaForge. Lore….” There was a pause, “Is B-4 down there with you?”_

“Nooo. Why?”

     Another long pause followed, in which Lore gripped the trunk of the tree next to him. Finally, LaForge spoke, _“Damnit, Lore. We can’t find him. We’re searching everywhere. The ship, the station, but….”_

“But what!” Lore demanded. His voice was loud enough to draw some looks from the party, including from Anna. She rose from her seat quickly and headed toward him. She reached his side with a questioning look. 

     “LaForge?” Lore demanded again. “Where is he?”

     _“You need to get up here, Lore. We’ve searched everywhere. The ship, the station.”_ LaForge’s voice stumbled and paused, then, _“The_ Enterprise _runabout is missing and we can’t detect a warp trail. Bee is gone.”_

_To be continued……_

    

 


End file.
